Wolf Moon
by AwesomePP
Summary: I'm not like you. I don't want safe. I don't have a home. But I know someone needs me, I know someone's counting on me so I keep running. Zach's POV of OTSY. (Includes Budapest.)
1. Chapter 1

_You know those times when you feel like you have no one. _

_Those times when you just sit there feeling like you've lost a piece of yourself and feeling empty. _

_Those times when the whole world is leaning into your face and going, 'You don't need to do this.' _

_But you look back and you say, 'No, I have to.' _

_-Z_

* * *

**16th December, 2010**

**Blackthorne Winter Break commences. Operatives Catherine and Zachary Goode leave campus, escorted by Dr. Steve. Five unknown operatives from New York, London, Singapore, Switzerland and Washington, D.C. leave their posts to the closest international airports.**

**Operative Devereux is in CIA custody in Langley. He requests for a glass of water, drinks it and mentions a single name.**

* * *

**23rd December, 2010**

**Operative Catherine Goode reaches safe house in Austria by foot. Followed by Operative Zachary Goode in a Volvo. Then Dr. Steve on a bicycle. Three other unidentified agents are seen entering safe house by boat, motorcycle and helicopter respectively. Another two are seen arriving by the underground train. Exactly two minutes later, reports are given, greetings are exchanged and strategies are discussed.**

**Operative Solomon is not seen at neither the Gallagher Academy in Roseville, Virginia, the safe house in Austria or on the designated forms of transportation that he was assigned. Operative Solomon has officially disappeared. Operative Catherine Goode has noticed. She looks worried. More angry than worried, really. Eventually, the whole cell knows and speaks of their suspicions of Operative Solomon.**

**Three hours later, they agree that he is a security threat. A loose end. And everyone knows what happens to loose ends.**

**Operative Zachary Goode says nothing. He remembers something that Joe Solomon told him in November and has purchased a train ticket to London.**

* * *

**31th December, 2010**

**Operative Goode is located at the Tower of London.**

* * *

"American?" One of the guys at the rink skated up to me. He had blue eyes and closely cropped sandy brown hair. "You don't look like you're from around here."

Actually, I could produce a perfect British accent but instead, I nodded, "Yeah."

"Welcome to London. I'm Tom." He smiled good-naturedly. "Come hang with my mates."

"I don't see why not." I shrugged. I had never 'hung' with civilians before. I pushed off the side of the rink and followed Tom to a group of seven other teenage guys on the far side of the ice rink.

"Guys, meet…" Tom trailed off and glanced at me.

"Zach." I offered.

"Yeah, Zach." Tom corrected. But the six other guys hadn't seemed to notice that Tom and I had come up to them. "Oi, Linus." Tom gave a guy with messy black hair a playful shove. "Earth to Linus. Earth to Linus."

"What?" Linus suddenly spun around with a goofy grin on his face. He ruffled his already messy mop of black hair and caused snowflakes to fall onto his shoulders. I was suddenly aware that it was indeed snowing and I shoved my hands deep into my pockets.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Zach. He's American."

"Err…yeah." Linus gave me an apologetic smile. "Better time mate, there's a fit bird over there. Looks good enough to snog. Let's chat her up, yeah?" I turned and couldn't resist smirking- as if Bex Baxter would let a random guy kiss her. Let alone seven. My smile widened as I saw Cammie standing next to her, talking. If only I could ask her about Joe.

Tom snorted and said, "Meet Linus. Biggest flirt in Oundle School."

"Correction- _best and most successful _flirt in Oundle." Linus arched a single eyebrow suavely and laughed loudly. His laugh seemed to echo over the ice rink and Bex's gaze flickered over to us. Cammie's didn't. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, though. I quickly ducked behind Linus, hoping that she didn't spot me. Bex then did a quick spin on the spot then skating backwards in a wide arc and heading towards us.

Needless to say, the seven other guys fell silent. The scratching of Bex's skates against ice was the only thing sounding in the cold December air. Peering through the gaps between Linus and Tom's head, I could see Bex's gaze sweep over us. I stayed perfectly still and prayed that she didn't see me. The last thing I wanted was Bex Baxter stopping in mid-stride, pulling me out of her group of ogling admirers and make the twenty-three secret agents around the ice rink notice me. Fortunately, she didn't stop and returned to Cammie's side, her hair and red scarf still drifting lazily in the breeze. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and straightened up- she was too far away to be a threat.

'_So which one do you want?' _Bex said as I read their lips, paying no attention to Linus discussing flirting strategies with Tom.

Cammie shrugged, _'No thanks. Trying to give them up.' _

'_Come on, Cam. How about the tall one?' _

'_Nope.' _Cammie shook her head. I grinned.

'_The short one?' _Bex asked again.

'_No thank you.' _

'_The one with…' _Bex's gaze slid over to mine. _Dark eyes, _I finished silently for her. Bex's eyes went wide and a knowing look flashed in her pools of grey.

'_What is it?' _Cammie turned her head and I knew she was checking the agents that had been stationed around the rink. _'Bex.' _She repeated. _'What is it?' _

'_It's nothing. It's just…tell me this, Cam…' _Bex seemed to read my mind and the corners of her mouth lifted. _'Just tell me…are you sure you've given up all boys?' _I smirked and mouthed, _thank you. _

Cammie arched a suspicious eyebrow. _'Bex, what are you saying?' _

But Bex just pouted, raised her hand to her mouth and said, _'Oops.' _And she lurched forwards and tumbled onto the ice with a sickening thud. I congratulated her on her acting skills as Tom, Linus and the other boys immediately pushed off and formed some sort of protective circle around Bex…and left Cammie free to talk.

"Happy New Year, Gallagher Girl." I called and gave her a smirk, like I always did, perfecting my façade of calmness. But trust me, I wasn't anywhere close to calm. Joe was missing and that was enough to send me into pandemonium.

She actually looked genuinely pleased to see me as she skated closer, "You look cold."

"I used to have a warmer jacket, but then I gave it to some girl." I teased. Abby must surely have received my 'moustache message' and given it to her.

"That wasn't very smart." Cammie said.

"No." I smirked again and shook my head playfully. Cammie was still sarcastic as always. "It probably wasn't."

I moved closer to her, fully aware that my hand was easing closer to hers. I smiled and said, "Besides, it looked better on you."

"Why do I get the feeling you aren't here on vacation?" Cammie changed the subject and it took all of my self-control to stop my smile from falling.

"I'm looking for Joe Solomon." I was struggling to keep my voice neutral when the situation was absolutely not in a neutralized condition, making it sound like it was no big deal (which is ISN'T, obviously). I looked around the Tower grounds, hoping to spot Joe somewhere in the crowd. I hoped that he had a cup of coffee in his right hand, signaling that everything was alright. I hoped that he was sitting on a bench, a laptop in front of him with all the surveillance camera tapes. I hoped that he was talking with the Baxters by the side of the rink, looking like he could be discussing his lesson plans for the next semester of junior CoveOps or reports on secret missile factories in North Korea. "Thought maybe he was with you?"

Cammie was a trained operative as well. She knew the threats, the dangers and worst-case scenarios. So she reacted immediately, "What's wrong?" Her voice sharp and biting like the freezing wind that blew off the Thames.

"Nothing, Gallagher Girl. It's probably noth-" I started to backtrack.

Cammie cut me off fiercely, "Tell me or I'll yell for Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and you can find out how Bex became _Bex._"

I looked down and kicked at the hard packed snow at the edge of the rink, the words stuck in my throat, "We were supposed to meet up a few days ago, but he didn't show." I lifted me head to look back at Cammie. "And he didn't call." Joe had a satellite phone. I had a satellite phone. Both highly untraceable and had a coded transmitter. He would have to be in a very…bad situation to not be able to call.

"He's not on my protection detail." Cammie said, brown eyes turning serious. Well, I could cross that off the list.

"Your mom's off looking for leads on the Circle, right?" I tried again. "Could he be with her?"

"I don't know. I _guess _so, but… I don't know." Cammie said and the tension in my stomach relaxed for the first time in a week. It was probably the most comforting thing I've heard in a long, long time.

But I couldn't help asking again, "Has he checked in with the Baxters?" _Tell me yes. Please, tell me he did. _

"I don't know." I repeated the phrase '_we're doomed' _over and over again in my head in Russian.

"Has he-"

"No on ever tell me anything, remember?" Cammie answered scathingly before I could finish. "Being out of the loop isn't fun, is it?"

I was about to protest when I hear a new voice call out, "Rebecca!" And I saw a woman with Bex's eyes and hair scanning the crowd.

I sighed and dismissed all my theories. Cammie was definitely telling the truth about not knowing where Joe is. It would be pointless to ask her more questions. I nodded at Mrs. Baxter, "You've got to go."

"If Mr. Solomon is missing call-ins, then we have to look for him. We've got to tell Bex's parents… We've got to call my mom so she can-" Cammie suddenly blurted like she was surprised that I was giving up on asking questions.

"No!" The word came out much harsher than I expected. Then I tried to smile at Cammie. "It's probably nothing, Gallagher Girl." Highly unlikely. "Go on. Have fun." But the look on Cammie's face told me that I just ruined the last days of her winter break.

"Cameron." I heard a man's voice calling and I guessed it was Bex's father. "Say good-bye to the young man now."

But Cammie didn't seem to hear him. "We've got to tell them, Zach. If Mr. Solomon is missing…"

"They'd know." When I said the words, I knew it was true. "Whatever is going on, I promise you they know a lot more than we do." But I can't exactly ask _them_, can I? I stood up properly and started to skate backwards from Cammie, looking for a gap to slip in between the other skaters while Mr. Baxter called again, "Let's go, Cammie."

When Cammie turned her head to reply, "I'll be right there!" I had already skated behind a man with a Glasgow accent in a black parka and Cammie went out of sight.

* * *

There was something in my shoe. I had already unlaced my skates and started to pull on my shoes when I heard a crinkle of vinyl paper in them. I frowned a pulled the piece of paper out. The piece of paper in question was actually a brochure; advertising New Years Eve cruises along the Thames to watched the fireworks. Stapled to it was a ticket for the cruise leaving in half an hour.

I looked down at my dark button-up shirt and black trainers. I hoped I could pass for a guest at a New Years Eve cruise.

* * *

"Now, you can see the Tower of London up ahead. And there's the Tower Bridge. Excellent view from there, folks…" The guide's voice faded out. So did the quiet chatter of tourists and clacking of heels as I zoomed into the two figures standing up on the bridge. The smaller figure had the curves of a teenage girl and strikingly familiar blonde hair. The other was obviously a man. He was trembling so badly that even I could see him shaking from the boat on the Thames. And, of course, I noticed the crowd of agents gathering on opposite sides of the bridge.

"Joe..." I whispered and the chilling December wind didn't feel cold at all, compared to the dread growing in my stomach. I think I could guess why Joe had asked me to join the cruise.

Joe was yelling something but I was still too far away to read his lips. Then he turned to Cammie, placing his hands on her shoulders, leaned close and said something urgently to her. Cammie stood rigid on the bridge, only her head was nodding like she understood something. I was wondering what could Joe be talking about when I spotted a crack in the middle of the bridge.

"Blimey! The Tower Bridge's pulling up! My word, there's still two people on it!" The guide exclaimed and the whole deck of the boat gaped at the two black figures outlined clearly by the lights of the Tower Bridge. I gripped the sliver railing along the side of the boat, my heartbeat hammering in my ribcage. I shut my eyes- I could already imagine what was going to happen. They were going to fall. They were going to fall into the Thames and they're going to get something horrible like hypothermia…or maybe they wouldn't even make it.

I opened my eyes again just in time to see Joe leaping off the bridge and plunging into the black water like an Olympic diving competitor. With barely an audible splash, he disappeared. The crowd rushed to the railings and leaned close to the water's edge, hoping to get a glimpse of the mysterious man who leaped off the bridge and into the Thames. Crazy theories were passed around:

"They're shooting a new show for BBC! That's brilliant!"

"Oooh, Alex! The British Navy's doing a drill! Take a photo!"

"Bloody hell, that man committed suicide! Call the authorities!"

But I didn't hang around to hear the gossip passed around. I was looking at a very purple, very wet and very familiar fingers slowly curling along the deck of the boat, one by one, shivering and whispering, "Zach."

It was Joe. His lower part of his body was immersed in the Thames, legs treading water while he clung to the side of the boat with both hands. His lips were purple, dark hair plastered against his skull and his skin was a deathly white. He looked like a zombie who was about to die of asthma but his eyes were still moving, still thinking, still seeing.

I looked around quickly, making sure all the other tourists were on the other side of the deck, still gaping at the Tower Bridge where the Secret Service still swarmed about. I bent down and offered Joe my hand, "Come on up."

Joe shook his head and gulped in a huge gasp of air, "Can't be seen, not even in Austria. Devereux started talking. Need…Matthew's…journal." His words were broken and in short sentences. I bent down closer towards him and listened like it was the most important mission of my life (and it probably was).

"You want me to tell Cammie this?" I said.

"Not now. You can't reach her now." Joe gasped shakily and a thin stream of cloudy vapor came out of his mouth. "Take this, go to Roseville, and set it free. She'll find it, she'll know, she'll come."

"Take what?" I asked.

"That. It'll come back to you when she answers. I trained it." Joe pointed behind me to a short cupboard on the deck, with the words 'LIFEJACKETS' stenciled on with red paint. I quickly opened it and nestled between the yellow jackets was a sleeping pigeon. I could see a small square of paper attached to its leg. I took the sleeping pigeon out and unfolded the note. Typed neatly, without any sort of signature, it read: _If you're reading this, you've found it. And if you've found it, you know. Must see you. Meet me at the place where we did the brush passes. Send me back the time. Please come. And please be careful. _I blinked- it was like I had really written the note myself. But then, Joe _had _known me since I was 12.

I turned, still studying the note and said, "So I give this to…" I trailed off because Joe had disappeared. I walked back up to where he had clung to the deck but he had simply vanished into thin air. I looked up and down the Thames but there was absolutely no sign of a man called Joe Solomon. There wasn't even a droplet of water on the deck that gave him away.

"Erm…okay." I muttered to myself. I tucked the still sleeping pigeon (by now, I think she was drugged into unconscious), tied the note back to its leg and took out my phone.

* * *

**1st January, 2011**

**Operative Zachary Goode has purchased an airplane ticket back to Washington D.C. and asked permission from the agent who came from D.C. if he could use the Circle's Lamborghini Gallardo again.**

* * *

**A/N: There are only five things to say at the end of this first chapter for 'Wolf Moon'.**

**1. Thank you to everyone who is reading this. :) Especially if you've been here since the first sentence of 'Zach In Shining Armor' (welcome back, my fellow Gallagher Girls and Blackthorne boys, if there _are _Blackthorne Boys here). But if you're new around here, hello! **

**2. Thank you for being so patient, waiting for this chapter to come out. I had a day trip to watch the House of Dancing Water in Macau and I had an eye appointment for contacts so that took up some time. I also had to re-read the book and outline this whole story (this one's actually A LOT more complicated than I thought, no joke). The preparation took another few days... Apologies in advance if I take another long while to upload the next chapter because there will be some Catherine in it. I need to do another thorough character study/analyze her for a bit. **

**3. I just realized that Zach is a very, very lonely person. Jonas and Grant aren't his 'real' friends since they are completely oblivious to his Circle membership (or legacy-thingy...whatever you call it) so he has to keep everything to himself (and Joe, sometimes) but Cammie has Bex, Macey, Liz, her mom and Abbey. She can share all her worries and they can help her in fighting the Circle, facing evil together. I mean, the contrast is so heartbreaking. A girl who is so happy and has everything she needs with a guy who has barely felt true bromance and knows literally nothing but sadness. Merlin...Ally Carter needs to stop killing me. **

**4. I know this series has a bit of romance in it but for the majority of writing this (and the other titles), I was listening to Payphone and break-up songs...so that's kind of weird.**

**5. I love Lambos. Especially the 2009 ****Gallardo so I think you'll see a lot of it in the next few chapters or so. I can spend 'quality time' with it. ;)**

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP **


	2. Chapter 2

If you're reading this, you probably are already aware of the fact that Blackthorne is a school for assassins and future psycho maniacs like Dr. Steve. And a school like that definitely doesn't allow you to skive classes, feign sick days or miss late-night drills/war games (but there's nothing fun about the games, trust me). And especially when Career-counseling day comes, everyone is expected to be there.

Well, I'm not an ordinary Blackthorne boy so I stayed in my dorm because 1) I had work to catch up on and 2) I didn't want to be called to the front of the class to do an intro about how it was like working in a terrorist cell.

But when the day ended, I still had to deal with both anyways.

"Anything to tell us, Zach _Goode_?" Jonas stormed into the room and stood stonily at the foot of my bed.

I looked up from my essay, a dreading feeling growing in my stomach. "What?" _They knew. They knew everything._

"You're only sixteen. Barely seventeen." Grant walked up to join Jonas. His voice was lower and calmer than Jonas'. It was almost sad. "But really?"

"Really what?" I feigned innocence.

"It doesn't take a genius to work out who you were with what they told us and the guy sleeping in the same room with us." Jonas said coldly.

"And everyone else knows?" I blinked, looking like I honestly couldn't care less but inside, I wanted to yell at them that it wasn't how it looked like. I wanted to tell them that I was actually born _into _the Circle. I wanted to say, _'For the record, I didn't want anything to do with this.' _

"Kind of…_yes_." Jonas said harshly. I glanced around the dorm. The other guys were shooting me strange looks and whispering.

"That's why you knew how to fly a copter last spring. That's why you disappeared for half of the semester last year and so conveniently, somebody did a drive-by shooting at the presidential elections. That's why you knew so much about CoveOps." Grant bluntly recited the facts like he was remembering the fundamentals of outdoor surveillance taught in eighth grade. "That's why you're…_different_."

"Guys, I-" I started.

"Save it, Zach." Grant said softly, cutting me off and I watched the only two people who I actually considered as friends walk away from me. I leaned my head back against the headboard. Playing superhero really did come with a heavy price.

* * *

"Can't sleep?" A voice cut through the night. Assassin training or not, I jumped. I turned around and realized it was Chester Parker.

"Oh, um. Yeah." I replied, leaning back on the windowsill.

"You've been out here for almost two weeks." Chester said quietly and stood beside me. "I wonder how can you still be up for classes." _I wonder how I can possibly sleep with so many questions. _

I nodded, "Nice of you to notice." I had been watching the skies for Joe's pigeon, it hadn't arrived yet...and I was thinking.

"I noticed Grant and Jonas as well." He said, drumming his fingers on the windowpane now. "Sorry about that."

I exhaled and looked up at the moon. "Well, it was coming one day."

"Just so you know…" Chester cleared his throat. "I signed up."

I spun around so quickly that I had a crick in my neck, "_What?_" And I completely forgot that it was midnight and the whole campus was asleep. I stumbled backwards, "_What?_"

"I'm on your side." Chester said slowly, his gaze was fixed on the training field below the window, the grass washed silver by the moonlight. "I joined the Circle. Training starts in the spring break."

"Why did you do that?" I hissed. "Are you _insane?_"

Chester took a deep breath, looking into the cliffs surrounding the campus now, "I came from an ordinary family, Zach. My parents were ordinary parents. They had normal jobs, we owned a normal pet and we had a normal life. I was bored, you know. I was so tired of having such a normal and boring life. Until my first day of seventh grade. I was at a new school and you know, the jocks were going to beat me up and I reacted…savagely. Instinct…adrenaline…whatever you want to call it, took over and I kicked them. Put one on life support with only my bare hands." He paused for a moment and swallowed, "I was put on trial after that, I thought I was going to jail. But I guess someone saw some twisted potential in me, stepped in and…" Chester gestured around him with a crazy grin. "Here I am."

I half smirked, "Killer instinct."

Chester nodded, "Yeah, something like that." Then he turned to look at me seriously, "What I'm saying is that, I thought I was going to lead an ordinary life after sometime in juvy or whatnot but I came here and…it was a _dream come true_."

"You wanted more crazy dreams so you signed up to be a terrorist." I finished cynically. "Understandable."

"You could put it that way." Chester chuckled softly. Then he reached into his jacket pocket. "Oh, and I found this when I checked the mail. A _pigeon _tried to smash itself into the mailbox. Can you believe it? There was a letter attached to its leg. It's for you." He handed me a manila white envelope with a single word on it, '_Zach'_. I opened it and saw that there were two things in the envelope- a tiny, rolled up scroll and a neatly folded blank piece of paper.

"Thanks," I murmured, feeling relieved for the first time in days. "I think I can sleep now."

* * *

_-Z_

_Cammie has replied the time and I've intercepted Harriet. (That's the pigeon's name.) I hope she didn't smash herself into the mailbox at Blackthorne- she tends to do that sometimes. Like I told you in London, Cammie needs to read her father's journal. It's in Sublevel Two. I forbid you to try to take it because I've turned on all the security systems. No one else should be able to get it. Just tell Cammie to retrieve it from the middle of the highest shelf and read it. She might not believe you at first- I know people are starting to say things about Matthew and I. But however it looks like, I didn't. I swear I never laid a hand on him. I never knew if Matthew was alive or not after he disappeared. That's why Cammie _needs_ to read it. _

_But if all fails, there is a Plan B. Use it only when all hope is lost. I also had a journal from my days at Blackthorne. I started writing it when I was recruited at 16 because I knew a resistance would form once evil had existed. There is a series of caves behind the cliffs of Blackthorne, I've hidden it in the largest cave right in the middle, almost directly behind the waterfall. The water will take you to it. _

_Explore the caves now, Zach. Explore it for a bit before you ever have to take the journal, just to get you acquainted with them. There are many entrances into the caves but the only ones that I know are still working is a small hole at the back of the storeroom in the dojo and the east side of Blackthorne. Take note that the entrances are not meant for others. They are hidden. _

_I'm so sorry for everything. I never meant for you or Cammie to get dragged in such a deep mess. I've never expected that it would turn out this way. People say that the first rule of our business is to expect the unexpected but this…I doubt anyone could imagine this. Don't lose hope, Zach. And don't lose Cammie. _

_JS_

I put down the sheet of paper that was originally blank from the flame of Bunsen burner in the Chem lab. Joe had used the old schooled invisible ink that could be shown when heated up. I read it over and over again, memorizing it. Every time I read it, it felt like another rice sack had been dumped onto my shoulders. I literally felt aged after reading it. I let out a heavy and tired breath then dipped a corner of the letter into the small flame. I turned off the gas tap, placed the flaming paper into a metal box and watched it burn.

* * *

Here's a bit about Blackthorne: We have a dojo for hand-to-hand combat and martial arts. During school days, the dojo would be full of Blackthorne Boys wrestling and throwing punches at each other in the soft sunlight that filters through the small, square windows covered with semi transparent white paper. Grunts and loud breathing would fill the air and occasionally, the wooden floorboards would shake when one of us was thrown rather heavily on the blue mats.

But at night, it was completely empty and silent. I skirted the mats placed neatly on the floor, careful not to leave any traces of dirt (because Coach Yamaguchi would kill me if I touched the mats with my shoes). I slid open a sliding door and closed it. I found myself in a small room with training equipment stacked neatly along the sides of the walls.

"Where is it?" I mumbled, thinking aloud and paced around the storeroom, lifting extra mats and peering behind punching bags. What had Joe said about the caves? It was in the cliffs. Cliffs meant stone and stone meant _sand_. I dropped down on all fours and ran my palm over the smooth, wooden Japanese-styled floor. I felt a tiny prickle near the far wall of the storeroom. I knocked lightly on the floor. It sounded solid- no entrance there. I looked up and studied the small cube windows, also Japanese-styled. I noticed they were covered with paper. I stood up and poked a tiny hole through the paper. Once my index finger passed through the paper, I could feel an open space behind.

I tried to sort of 'grip' the wall and tried to slide it across the wooden floor. It didn't have a track to run on like normal sliding doors so I was basically pushing a whole wall sideways. Soon I was looking at a gaping dark hole. Looking at it, I wondered how many secrets did Blackthorne hide.

* * *

**Things that Operative Goode gathered about the caves but shall from now on refer as tombs because of studying Native American culture recently (the Native Americans buried their dead in caves, you know):**

**The tombs had been used for weapon testing and training due to a large and disturbing number of dummies used as targets. The targets were old. Operative Goode estimates that they were as old as World War II. Thankfully, they haven't been touched ever since.**

**Operative Goode has never seen/heard anyone else in the tombs except for once. He came across a passageway were there were light bulbs. They were still warm. The musty air had irregular dust patterns, indicating disturbance. And there was a familiar smell in the air. But Operative Goode did not dare investigate further for he did not want to risk his own neck.**

**February 3rd**

**Operative Goode successfully hacks into the CIA computer systems to keep an eye on unusual activity of…_anything_.**

**February 4th**

**Operative Goode leaves Blackthorne at 16 00 hours.**

* * *

Roseville was quiet when I arrived on a bicycle. The square was empty, the shops were closed and no lights were on in the buildings. I melted into the shadow of the gazebo. From where I stood, I could see the step where I sat on, I could remember the number of windows on the gazebo and I could remember where Cammie stood and every word she said. I couldn't quite believe that it was only a year ago when we did the brush passes right there. But this time, there was so much more at stake. And everything was different. _We _were different.

A lone figure stepped out into the moonlight. I recognized the hair, I recognized the jacket and I recognized the walking gait. I smiled and stepped out from the shadows and called, "Hello, Gallagher Girl."

But to my surprise, the figure didn't respond in a Cammie-like way, "Why, hello yourself."

"Macey?" I don't know if it was a guy thing, or a spy thing but I stumbled backwards as she tilted her head and I could see her famous ice blue eyes and high cheekbones. "Where's Cammie?"

"You look disappointed to see me, Zach," Macey teased. "Don't you like my jacket?"

"Where is she?" I demanded. _I needed to tell her the message. THE message of the father's journal. _

"At school. Watching from a live video feed. She's _safe_." Macey said firmly and stepped up to me like she was rising to a challenge…or an attacker. But anyone who really knew the Gallagher Academy would know for sure that she was lying.

"The jammers at the school wouldn't allow that, Macey. Now, where is she?" I turned around, scanning the shadows and searching for any slight movement of dishwater blonde hair or an outline of a body. Almost unconsciously, I could feel eyes on me. Familiar eyes that I had stared into before. "I know she's around here somewhere."

"She's safe where she is, Zach." Bex's voice sounded from behind me. I wanted to groan in frustration. Couldn't anyone see that Joe asked for her _specifically_? The journal that could very well bring down the Circle was her _father's_.

"I need to talk to her." I repeated, my patience was wearing thin.

"So talk." Macey said. "We've got comms. She can hear you."

"I need to _see _her." I blurted and once the words left my mouth, I realized that I hadn't seen Cammie in a long time. Seeing her felt like a daydream now- impossible and too good to be true.

Macey narrowed her gaze and stood her ground but suddenly, Bex's hand was at her ear, shouting, "You stay where you are!" I half-smiled. Cammie was coming.

"She's lucky to have you." I said quietly. "She needs you." _More than you could ever know. _

"What are you doing here, Zach?" Macey asked. I just shook my head and looked at the ground. _The answer would kill them. Again. _

"It's complicated." I managed to say.

"So un-complicate it." Cammie appeared at my side. A sweet lungful of air rushed through me and I smiled- she was here. But then she said, "You're with him."

The words cut me deeper than I expected. So I joked, trying to hide the hurt, "Technically, he's on an errand halfway around the world right now."

"Liz and Macey told me that just because you go to Blackthorne doesn't mean…" Cammie stopped. I could see that she didn't want to say it either. "But you really are with him." There was no hurt, no disappointment or any emotion at all in her voice. That hurt me the most of all- she didn't feel anything.

"Gallagher Girl, listen to me." I said slowly, not wanting another Grant-Jones epidemic.

"So…what happened, Zach? Did the Circle recruit you too?" Cammie asked.

I looked into her eyes. _Hot chocolate,_ I reminded myself. I searched for the appropriate words and finally whispered, "Not exactly."

"What are you doing here, Zach?" Cammie asked.

"He asked me to get a message to you."

"So _send _me a message! What was so important that I had to risk my friends' safety to sneak out here? Huh? What was so-"

"I had to see you." I cut her off. I stepped close towards her and wrapped my hands around her cold ones. "I had to know you were okay. I had to see you and touch you and…know." _Because fearing for the life of someone you care about slowly kills you from the inside. _

I brushed away a few strands of hair from her face, lightly ghosting over her cold skin and I felt bursts of energy shoot up my fingertips. "In London…" I could still see her thin figure standing on the Tower Bridge. So alone, so vulnerable, so fragile… "After D.C." To me, the bloodstains of that night never left Cammie's skin.

"I'm fine." Cammie said softly. "CAT scans and X-rays were normal. No lasting damage."

"Really?" I let one finger rise and skim against her cheek. "'Cause I'm not."

"I'm fine, Zach." Cammie pulled away. "But I've got to go. We only have half an hour before they miss us."

I was instantly on guard and pointed to the darkness. "Who else is out there?"

"The usuals."

"Your mom?" I asked and Cammie's eyes flashed guilt. _There wasn't. _"Good. He doesn't want her taking the risk."

"What does he care?" If he cared about her, then…" Cammie lashed out. She now screamed '_heartbroken'_.

"So they told you?" It was my turn to step away from her. I couldn't believe who told her these lies.

"Yeah. They told me he's part of the Circle, and he… My father is dead because of him. Is this the part where you deny it?"

"No." I shook my head. "It's the part where I ask a favor."

"You've got a lot of nerve." Bex said sharply.

"There's a book, Gallagher Girl." I swallowed and continued. "It might be the only thing in the world the Circle wants as much as they want you."

"What kind of book?" Cammie asked.

"A journal. Joe- Mr. Solomon- needs you to read it."

"Where is it?" Bex asked.

"You're not going to like it." I warned. "It's risky and-"

"_Where is it?" _Bex, Macey and Cammie snapped in unison.

"Sublevel Two."

"The Subs?" Bex shook her head. "No. Can't. They're closed. Off-limits." _Well, that's the whole point, right? _

"Oh, and off-limits has always stopped you before?" I said sarcastically. "Look, they're not technically closed- they're just rigged to explode if anyone goes near them."

"How do you know about the Subs?" Cammie asked suspiciously.

"Because a week before I saw you in London, Joe heard the CIA had a source who'd started talking. He had to get off the grid and stay off the grid- fast. They were coming for him, Gallagher Girl, and he couldn't risk getting caught down there, so…" I took a deep breath and smiled, "I know about the Subs because Joe Solomon's the one who rigged them."

Bex, Macey and Cammie were quiet for a minute. Bex's grey eyes were hard and focused, already strategizing ways to sneak in, maybe involving tiny explosives and a couple of electric screwdrivers. Macey was expressionless, one eyebrow raised, probably analyzing every word I had said and deducing clues. Cammie stared off into the distance, head tilted slightly to the night sky. She let out a small sigh, perhaps she was like me, wondering when this whole mess was going to end.

"It's in the middle of the highest shelf." I added. I then gave Cammie's fingers one last squeeze. "I've got to go now. They're going to miss me too." And I walked back into the shadows of gazebo.

* * *

**A/N: Right...this chapter didn't exactly go as planned with a Catherine Goode appearance (or as I like to call it, a 'Catherine cameo', hehe...) but no worries, there will be soon! I was feeling very 'musical' while writing this (for some strange, strange reason) and I started listening to Yiruma and Canon in D. Beautiful music, I tell you. So check it out on Youtube if you ever have time! :) **

**And I'd love to thank everyone who has read this and reviewed! The support means everything to me as a young, budding writer! Constructive criticism will always be taken into consideration. :)**

**Cheers, **

**AwesomePP**


	3. Chapter 3

I hate gas stations, especially when you're stopping in the middle of your road trip. One, gas prices are, well…pricey. Two, the workers at the gas station are _always_ going to stare at a 16 year old with a flashy Lamborghini Gallardo. Like I needed the attention. And three, while waiting for the tank to refuel, you've got a couple minutes to check your phone. I had wired my phone to the CIA computer system, which meant I was informed of every movement of the CIA. Right now, typed neatly on the screen were the words, _"Operative Townsend (008) requests for Grade Five security protocol and back up at the Virginia Amusement Park from 14 00 to 15 00 hours. The Operative claims to be able to trap Joseph Solomon. Request has been passed by the Director." _

The words slammed into me like a well-placed front kick to the solar plexus. I wrenched the gas nozzle out from the car and swiped my credit card so hard against the machine that I prayed that it wouldn't break. I could NOT let anyone get to Joe. He still had to take down the Circle. He still had to help Cammie and I. He was still needed. _I _needed him. This Townsend person said that Joe would be in Virginia. Maybe Joe was hiding out there. I could warn him before the CIA arrived. Or grab him before the Agency did. Or _anything_. He just had to be free.

It was 07 30 hours, which meant it only left me around seven hours to make the nine-hour journey to turn around and drive back up to Roseville. Maybe eight if there wasn't any traffic.

"Funny seeing you here, sweetie." Oh, wait. Make that four things I hate about gas stations- uncanny encounters with people you don't like. I snapped the phone shut and casually put it back in my pocket as I glanced at Mom. "Playing hookie?"

I shrugged, "Not that the lessons help, anyways." I swallowed and quickly made up a cover story in my mind.

Mom laughed and walked to the shotgun side of the Lambo, "Care to take your mother for a ride?" She stroked the shiny black armor with her manicured nails like it was a thorough-breed horse.

"I'm doing business." I replied firmly. I could literally feel the clock ticking as Mom continued to waste precious time- I had barely enough time to drive back to Virginia and almost no time at all to find Joe and warn him. Or whatever I needed to do. (What? I'm improvising here!)

Mom arched an eyebrow, "Oooh, are they paying you good?"

"They should because I'm tightening up their security systems." I lied and my deceiving skills kicking in full-time. I lifted a corner of my mouth to max the confidence factor, "They had a bit of a problem on their hands, wanted me to sort it out."

"Where?" Mom cocked her head. "New York?"

"I'm flattered by your expectations," I said. "But no. I'm doing it in D.C. Simple and easy."

Mom nodded, as if letting your 16 year old son check a company's security systems in Washington D.C. was a completely normal thing. "I'm following a lead to Vancouver, says Joe Solomon was sighted there." She tilted her chin at me, "What about you? Heard from him recently?"

"Found a trail leading to London during the winter break but it went nowhere." I replied evenly, my hand inching to the door handle. I was resisting the urge to jump in the car and leave Mom in a cloud of dust as I save Joseph Solomon's life. (Okay, maybe I wasn't exactly saving his life but…it kind of was.)

"He knows too much." Mom said softly. "The CIA is after him. We're after him. The Agency wants information and we want him to keep quiet. No loose ends, no whispers, no _unauthorized paperwork._" _The journal_, the two words flashed through my mind.

"Never really trusted him. And don't start to." Mom continued as she pushed off the Lambo and started to walk away. "He's nothing but a no-good, stealing, lying, coward." It took a lot of self-control to not engage my fist to her mouth. She looked back and flashed me a devious smile, "But I can trust you, can't I?"

I tried to hide my uncomfortable swallowing and my phone with the CIA announcements started to burn in my pocket, "With your life."

"Get back to your business. And I'll get back to mine's." Mom said and she disappeared behind a travelling bus.

* * *

I already knew something was very, very wrong before I even reached the amusement park.

1) A ruby red Gallagher Academy was parked in the parking lot. It was empty.

2) Two Blackhawks were forming a figure-eight rotation above the park.

3) Three words: Too. Many. Cameras.

4) Three more words: Unusual. Human. Movement. Obviously, agents were everywhere. Communicating, rotating, observing, _waiting._

It was five minutes to three. I leapt out of the car and tried to walk as quickly as possible into the crowd of families having fun without catching anyone's attention. I looked around, hoping that I didn't seem like a kidnapper eyeing the little kids.

There was Mack, standing beside a cotton candy machine, occasionally glancing at a guy with a green polo and blue cap. Tina Walters was mingling with some teenage girls, all the while staying close to an old lady with an electric scooter. Bex was tailing someone pushing a cart of boxes. And a large crowd was applauding Eva Alvarez by the Shoot-A-Duck game booth.

Only two things were out of place- agents were suddenly sprinting to a space behind the merry-go-round and Cammie was running away from them, screaming, "Bex!"

_NO. _

_No._

_Just…no…_

_Everything was gone. Everything was lost. Everything was over. _

_We lost Joe. We lost the only help we really had. We lost everything. We had the closest shot to bringing down the Circle and IT. WAS. GONE. _

So I ran. Running faster than I ever had. Even faster than the time Professor Devereux did that sprinting drill and threatened to throw us off the waterfall if we didn't run fast enough. The whole fairground became a multi-colored blur as I pushed through the crowd. I was already thinking how to blend with the CIA agents and maybe sneak Joe out right under their noses. I was already preparing to risk _anything _and _everything _to launch myself into the frenzy and fight my way out.

I was going overdrive by so much that I didn't even notice that I was running past Cammie.

"Zach!" Her voice sounded from my right.

I practically screamed at her, "Where is he?" My voice was hoarse from the shock and running. Cammie grabbed me and I tried to push her away. "Let me go, Gallagher Girl. I have to-"

"Do you want them to take you too?" Cammie's shrill voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality, coaxing me to think sensibly again, shaking some sense into me (no, really, she was actually shaking me). Her arms were around me. She was holding me so tightly against her that it hurt. "They have him, Zach. He's gone."

So I could do absolutely nothing but stare as agents slammed Joe down onto the grass. They formed a tight perimeter around him, making sure he couldn't escape. And I knew that I was too late. But I wasn't disappointed. I wasn't devastated. I was _angry…_at myself.

"Stupid!" I yelled, momentarily losing control. I banged my hand against a tree. I couldn't feel anything now- everything was too much. I breathed in a deep breath and turned to Cammie, "What happened?"

"CoveOps exercise. I tailed a man here. And then Mr. Solomon was there, talking about the Circle, saying I was in danger. And then there was a woman. I thought she was the woman from Boston."

"That wasn't her, Cammie." I said a little too harshly.

"I know that now." She said.

I put my hands on Cammie's shoulders and held them tightly, "There's no way Joe Solomon would ever be with _her_." _Because he's with us. He's with me. _

"Why would he come here?" Cammie asked, voice rising with urgency. "It was a trap. Joe Solomon walked into a trap."

"You." I said and suddenly everything fell into place. "If he thought you were going to be here- virtually unprotected…" _Joe was afraid that the Circle would grab Cammie _here. "There's nowhere he wouldn't go to save you."

"Why would he do that?" Cammie snapped, obviously thinking that it was the most ridiculous idea in the world. She tried to pull away but I didn't let her. "That doesn't make any-"

"It's all in the journal, Cammie." I said fiercely. It was our last hope. "It's all in the journal."

"Cammie!" Someone shouted her name in the distance but I still kept staring into Cammie's eyes.

"I think I see her!" Another person called and I knew I was running out of time.

"Look at me." And Cammie's eyes focused on me again. "Read the journal, Gallagher Girl. Read it all." Then I pulled her close, savoring the short, sweet moment of her in my arms and I pressed my lips to her forehead. I wish I could've stayed there longer, maybe even move my lips down and kiss her properly on the lips. Or maybe I could just be there for her as her classmates and her security detail brought her back to school. But I knew I had to go. Other things were at stake. I still had other disasters to fix.

I let my arms fall and I started to back away from her. I didn't even look into Cammie's eyes- afraid of what I would see there. Before the fairground completely disappeared from sight, I could see the other girls, gawking and staring at Joe's capture. Their faces were a horrible mixture of confusion, shock and disgust. Guilt stabbed at me again because I realized that had let down so many other people as well.

* * *

News of Joe's capture spread and of course, Mom knew. So instead of eating dinner in the cafeteria with the other juniors, Chester and I were called into her office. When we stepped in, I was truly horrified to see a couple of seniors also in the office.

"Good, everyone's here." Dr. Steve said from his position behind Mom. He turned to Chester and the seniors, "First of all, I wholeheartedly welcome our new recruits." He smiled nastily, as if already planning the assassinations. But the seniors just nodded and grinned confidently.

"Secondly, we are here to discuss Joe Solomon." Mom's voice was hard and cold, completely business-like. "For those who don't know him, he was a part of us. I say 'was' because he has abandoned us and now the CIA has him. Joseph Solomon knows too much and that makes him dangerous. And dangerous things should be stopped."

"So…how are we going to get him?" One of the seniors asked.

"The dearest Agency has done it for us." Mom smiled.

"In three and a half weeks time, the CIA will move him to another secret location for further questioning. He will be the most vulnerable and most exposed when moving. We'll will use that to our advantage and take him." Dr. Steve clasped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly. The mixture of emotions in the room at that moment was literally stabbing me- Chester was grinning like Christmas had come early, the seniors were doing the Blackthorne smirk, completely prepared to break into CIA custody to break Joe and needless to say, Mom was radiating cold fury and determination. I put on a fake smile and nodded but my insides were shriveling up.

I had absolutely no idea how to reach Cammie (I wasn't supplied with a pigeon this time). I didn't know if Cammie had read the journal yet. I didn't know how to stop the Circle from killing or doing whatever horrible thing they wanted to do to Joe. I was completely alone.

* * *

This is crazy. This is horrible. I cannot believe this is actually happening. I can't-

"I can't believe I'm actually on an _official mission_!" Chester whispered excitedly. "This is it, Zach. _This is it._"

Hearing Chester's words, you'd probably think we were standing on the rooftop of the Russian embassy. Or at least in front of some national monument, waiting for a face that often appeared on newspapers. But no, we were waiting in the bushes next to the road and when a car passed by, a huge cloud of dust would shoot up our noses. And we were waiting for someone who was on the CIA's Most Wanted List.

"I can't wait to see the looks and the agents faces. They'll never see this coming. They probably think we're after Solomon because we want him back and…"

"Chester…" I whispered.

"But after we get him, we'll force him to tell us everything about his traitor ways and we'll make him say everything that he did against the Circle then we'll…"

"Chester!" I hissed.

"And he'll be so devastated and sad and…yeah, Zach?" Chester turned his head.

"Quiet," I growled. "The van's coming." A plain white van rounded the corner. No windows, no distinctive markings- a type of van that would pass right under your nose and you wouldn't take a second glance. Well, unless you saw the motion sensors underneath the van, the slightly shinier missile-proof body armor and the camera positioned at the back of the van.

"Jump," a single command rang in our ears and black-clothed figures leapt out from nowhere. I watched them wrench open the van's doors and shoot down incoming guards. I watched them and…I ran in the opposite direction.

I sprinted away, the grass slapping at my calves and the wind rushing past my ear. Adrenaline pulsed through me as the white van grew smaller, the black figures crawling all over it like lionesses taking down their prey. Static crackled in my ear, I picked up bits and pieces of the conversation, "Take him… You have a gun, use it… GO!" And the words, "Where's Hawk?"

Those were the last two words I heard as I ripped the comms unit out of my ear and stamped it into the ground. I stumbled through a thicket of bushes and a very familiar car greeted me.

**A/N: Phew...finally got this chapter out. Sorry it took some time because 1) I fell sick and 2) I am doing some brainstorming on some Harry Potter Next Gen. fanfictions...but those are still very, very WIP and might not be published for quite a while... Anyways, thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! :) **

**And I'm already thinking about Zach's summer before his senior year. No, it will not be under another title (which means this fic will end when the senior year starts). All I can say about the summer is that it's...very different. But that's for later! **

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP **


	4. Chapter 4

"You there. What are you doing here?" A burly guard stood by the front gates of the campus. As I walked towards him, I silently cursed myself for being to fond of the Lamborghini and parking it in a nice space, making me walk past the front gates to get to the secret passageway to get in. Apparently, Gallagher had stepped up its security systems…by a lot.

"Yes?" I said, trying to sound like it was perfectly normal to be walking around the campus at 4am.

"I said, what are you doing here?" The guard repeated, his hand was slowly pulling backwards and I could see an outline of a concealer gun in his leather jacket (bulletproof, of course).

"Erm…walking?" I replied.

"At 4am?" The guard retorted.

I shrugged, "It's a free country. I can do what ever I want at 4am in the morning."

"ID?" I could almost feel that the guard was rolling his eyes and he pulled out a torch and a clipboard.

"Why?" Blackthorne didn't exactly let you keep your IDs and if anything, my ID was with Mom. And even I was panicking how to bluff my way out of this. "I don't even know who are you."

"Standard protocol, mister." The guard said, almost bored. "This is private property."

"That doesn't mean I can just fork over my ID card to you." I said guardedly.

"Don't worry, this is a school." The guard scoffed.

I took a deep breath and pretended to reach into my back pocket, "Wait just a minute. I think I have it somewhere…"

During the split second that the guard glanced down at the clipboard, I lashed out with my hand, aiming for the sweet spot above his eye. I waited for my hand to come in contact with skull, I waited for the man to crumple to the ground and readied myself to run. But instead, a hand shot out of nowhere and blocked my blow. The hand twisted mine's and forced it back to my side.

"That's alright, Zach." A new voice sounded behind the guard and Headmistress Morgan stepped out of the shadows. She turned to the guard, "He's with me, Gunther. A guest. Who likes to keep the element of surprise to himself." She gave me a pointed look. Obviously, she liked my annoying stunts as much as her daughter.

"Well, the element of surprise is a lot more powerful than all the elements in the periodic table. I would like to have it very much." I muttered as the headmistress proceeded to sign something on the clipboard.

"There. No harm done." Cammie's mom flashed a smile at the guard (who, I swear, drooled a bit) and she disappeared behind the front gates of the campus. "Follow me, Zach."

"Good day to you, Gunther." I added as I ducked behind the gates. Gunther scowled.

* * *

"I was supposed to meet Joe at the CIA prison today to talk about some business concerning the Circle. I'm sure you know what happened?" Mrs. Morgan pushed open the doors to the Hall of History.

"I was there." I said flatly, listening to the creak of wooden floorboards underneath my trainers. "But I came here."

"Mhm…and I come back from my trip to find that Joe's most trusted man is here at my front doors." She smiled but I wasn't sure if it was sarcastic or not. "Welcome back, Zach. I assume that you want to find Cammie?" She unlocked the doors to her office and flipped on the lights.

"Yeah…and ask her something." I said, standing in front of her desk, not exactly sure what should one do in a Headmistress's office.

"Sit." Mrs. Morgan gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. She dropped down in her own seat opposite me. "As for your question, Cammie's got the journal. She beat me to it." Mrs. Morgan laughed, "I think Abby told you that she had more of her dad than me in her."

"How's Abby?" I asked, now I was wondering why would a headmistress start to make small talk with me at 4 in the morning. (But we're spies…even small talk is a little out of the ordinary.)

"She met Cam after Joe talked to her, somewhere in Glasgow, I think." Mrs. Morgan leaned back in her chair, "Mmm…So I finally get to meet the famous Zach Goode that Cammie's been telling me all about." Sitting alone in front of Rachel Morgan, I think the conversation went from small talk to mom-of-potential-girlfriend-to-potential-boyfriend-talk.

"Do I meet your expectations?" I half-smiled.

"Exceeding." Mrs. Morgan said. "Good work on the helicopter pad last spring."

"I had help." I said.

"Blackthorne's good." _Too good, _I thought to myself as Mrs. Morgan nodded. "But enough of that, I'll get you something to eat first before finding Cammie from the kitchens. Driving non-stop all the way from Langley must be tiring." I raised my eyebrows questioningly and she said, "I can smell the new car scent on you. Lamborghini, isn't it? I prefer Maserati's though." Then she disappeared out the door. Once the clacks of her high heels faded away, I got up from the chair, slipped out of the office and made my own way to Cammie's dorm alone.

* * *

The suite was still when I picked the lock and slipped in. Even and slow breathing filled the air. I stepped over textbooks and discarded pieces of uniform on the carpeted floor. And I carefully made my way to Cammie's bed. Suddenly, my foot brushed against something and I froze. It was an open backpack at the foot of her bed. It had the usual girl stuff in there. A bottle of water, a purse for who knows what and two journals. One was rather new and judging by the state of the pages, it was written in quite recently. The other looked like it was twenty years old. The pages were yellow and probably brittle to the touch. I smiled- it was Matthew Morgan's journal. Mrs Morgan was right, Cammie had done it.

"Cammie," I murmured, leaning over her. A small part of my brain registered that if anyone saw us right now, it would scare the living daylights out of them, thinking I was some sort of psycho maniac who liked to look at teenage girls while they slept.

She turned her body and started to thrash around. She started to open her mouth to say something but I quickly covered her hand and said softly, "Cammie, wake up."

"No…" Cammie protested, voice muffled against my hand. She was still writhing underneath her covers and I realized that she must've had a bad dream.

"It's okay, Gallagher Girl. It's okay. Wake up." I put a comforting hand on the side of her head and started to smooth her hair like Mom used to when I was a kid. "It's okay, Gallagher Girl. It was just a bad-"

Cammie obviously recognized me using her nickname and whispered sharply, "What are you doing here? Tell me why I shouldn't wake them. Tell me why I shouldn't push that." _Nice to see you too, _I rolled my eyes mentally as Cammie pointed threateningly to the panic button on the wall.

I smiled and said, "Now, where would the fun be in that?"

"Zach." Cammie's voice went dangerously low and her hand started to move towards the button.

"Okay," I said a bit sheepishly and covered that hand with mine's "I'm here because we need to take a walk."

* * *

"Do I _want _to know how you got in here?" Cammie asked sarcastically as we stood in Madame Dabney's tearoom. I didn't know why I chose that particular location to talk. Maybe it was ironic to see Cammie in pyjamas standing beside Gallagher's finest silver. Or maybe it was the fact that we first had physical contact (although it wasn't very pleasant) while learning the waltz in here. But none of that mattered right now.

I shook my head and said, "I only broke a few laws." I held my fingers half an inch apart. "Little ones." _Probably a few speed limits on the freeway, cutting dangerously across lanes on major roads, causing a few heaps of road kill and nearly attacking a security guard at the front door. Anything else? Oh, right. Half participating in a kidnapping operation with a terrorist cell. Yeah, no big deal. _

"Does the Circle really have him?" Cammie finally said.

"Yes." The Circle never failed to get someone once they put their mind to it. I dropped down on one of the silk-covered fainting couches. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration, _I was there. I saw them get him. _

"Why? I mean, if he wasn't working with them-"

"They weren't exactly doing him a favor." I corrected her. "A cozy CIA prison is probably looking pretty good to him about now." Hearing this, Cammie walked to the windows and stared out over the grounds. Her face didn't betray any emotion but her eyes were completely broken.

"People don't leave the Circle easily, Gallagher Girl." I informed her.

"I know."

"Anyone who knows how they work or where they work- anyone who knows anything…" _I'm only alive now because of Mom…and pure, sheer luck. _

"Is that what I am?" Cammie asked, looking up to the lightly colored sky. The first ray of weak sunshine caught her eyes. The sight wasn't quite fitting that way- how could someone so beautiful be so sad?

I let out a long breath and moved closer to her by the window. "Gallagher Girl. I don't know. But I promise we'll find out." I held her hand for the second time that night.

"You should be dead, Zach." Cammie said suddenly. "That night- in D.C.- he had a clear shot. _I_ should be gone and _you_ should be dead." _He wouldn't dare to shoot me, _I said grimly inside my head.

"Gallagher Girl…"

"Why didn't he shoot you?" Cammie demanded, eyes flashing. I was seriously tempted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her that I was born into the Circle. I wanted to stop hiding the truth from her. But common sense won- if Cammie knew, she probably would strangle me right then and there.

So I said, "Everything that night happened so fast, Gallagher Girl."

"My name is Cammie!" She snapped. "How do you know about Boston? Why are you working with Mr. Solomon now? Are you my friend or are you my enemy, Zach? Or, wait, let me guess, you can't tell me."

"I don't know why they want you." I spoke, choosing my words carefully. "And for the rest, it's best if you don't know." _Because it's better to be clueless about everything happening around you than to know every bit of information that silently kills you. And my whole life was probably based on that. _

"Why do _you_ get to know?" Cammie said harshly.

"What's the matter, Gallagher Girl? Jealous?" I tried to joke.

"Yeah, I am!"

"Cammie…" I started exasperatedly.

"Time's up, Zach." She cut me off. "Tell me what you know or-"

"Or what?" I fought an urge to smirk. "You're not going to hurt me." And I doubt Joe ever got a chance to start on using physical abuse for interrogation.

"I won't. But _they _might." Cammie tilted her chin towards Bex, Macey and Liz standing at the door and suddenly, pajama-clad girls standing next to porcelain didn't seem very ironic at all.

* * *

"Hello, Zachary." Macey strode in as if she was walking into a room full of photographers for _Teen Vouge. _"You're looking well."

"Hey, Macey." I turned to Liz and tipped an imaginary hat, "Liz." I glanced at Bex, her grey eyes fixed on me like a hawk. "Rebecca," I teased.

"We were talking about Mr. Solomon." Cammie explained.

"Oh, is _that_ what you were talking about." Macey raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at me.

"What have you heard?" Bex said from her spot by the doorframe.

I shook my head, "Not much more than you have. The Circle broke him out. The CIA is saying it's because he's with the Circle." I remembered from the information that had been broadcasted to the whole Agency nine hours ago. "But really-"

"It's because he's _against _them." Bex finished solemnly.

I nodded, "In almost two hundred years no one has come closer to bringing down the Circle more than Mr. Solomon and your dad." I glanced at Cammie, wondering if I hit a sore spot. "The Circle needs to know what Joe knows, and what he's told others."

"Like me?" Cammie said.

I nodded again, "I'm willing to bet they're going to have a lot of questions about you."

"Good," Bex said. "That means they'll keep him alive."

"We're going to get him back. We _have _to get him back." Cammie said firmly and turned to me. "Where would they take him?"

"I don't know." I said. Mom could've taken Joe to that safe house in Singapore by now.

"Don't lie to me, Zach. Don't tell me you don't know things, because you do. Now where would they take him?"

"I don't know! Do you think I'd be _here_ if I knew?" I said fiercely.

"What about the man the CIA has in custody- the one who shot Abby? He might know." Macey offered. I could already see a plan forming in her eyes- using her dad's senator-powers/cash to buy a meeting with Devereux.

Bex shook her head, "He compromised. No way the Circle's still using anything he ever knew about."

"So that's just…it?" Liz asked, her eyes stretched wide. I couldn't help feel sorry for her…and us. We had barely anything to work on. There was simply nothing to hack into, no codes to crack, no messages to deduce and read. Except for…

"Maybe we can." I whispered.

* * *

"What do you mean there is a second journal?" Bex asked, staring at me.

"The one Mr. Solomon hid in Sublevel Two was your dad's, Cammie." I explained. "If anything ever happened…it was supposed to go to you. It was your dad's, so now it's _yours. _But Joe kept one too. It goes all the way back to his time with the Circle- all the way back to Blackthorne. No one has ever known more about the Circle than Joe. He started writing everything down as soon as they recruited him. And then when he realized what they were, he kept writing because…well…he knew something like this would happen eventually. He said if I ever needed it, I should go get it."

"Go where?" Macey asked.

I looked at each four of them, still wondering and choosing what words to say. Bex was still looking at me suspiciously, Macey was completely in awe at what was happening, Liz was focusing on me, probably using her photographic memory to capture every single moment. My gaze rested on Cammie, who was looking at me calmly. I took a deep breath, drawing strength from her and said, "Blackthorne."

And Cammie totally caught me off guard, "We'll go get it- right now. Before everyone is up. We'll-"

"We?" Bex cut in. "You think _we _should…what? Jump into Liz's van, drive all night, break into a top secret facility and, oh yeah, take you away from the safest place in the world?"

"Think about this, Cam." Liz said a lot more gently, compared to Bex's agitated and now-present British accent. "We don't have to go anywhere. All we have to do is tell your mom, and she'll call the CIA and-"

"My mom's not here, remember? And you read Dad's reports- you know the Circle has people at every level of the CIA. Mr Solomon knew he couldn't trust just anyone with this, and neither can we."

"No. It's too risky." Bex insisted, shaking her head.

"It's not _that _risky. We drive up, get the journal, and see if it has any clues about where Mr. Solomon is. It's not like we're going to break him out by ours-"

While they were bantering, I raised my eyebrows in surprise (okay, fine. _And _amusement.) That was probably a bad move because as soon they noticed the look, Bex and Cammie snapped at me together, "_What?_"

"Nothing." I crossed my arms and shrugged, trying not to break out a smirk. "I was just wondering when two of you switched bodies is all."

Cammie gave me a long look and it was now obvious that she had changed. She had a new sort of passion in her now. Stronger than Bex's. And maybe as strong as mine. Then she said softly, "I have to do this for him, Bex. I have to do _something._"

And perhaps it was the finality of Cammie's words. Or the desperation in her tone, or the whole craziness of the whole situation. Or the fact that the sun chose to rise from the east at that very moment, shining into Madame Dabney's tearoom, glinting off silverware and reflecting in crystal, making the whole moment look _exactly_ rightand have that movie-like dramatic-ness. So Bex finally said, "Well, I have always wanted to see Blackthorne."

"I just tweaked the van to incorporate solar technology. It really needs a road test for statistical significance, you know." Liz said.

"Us versus Blackthorne?" Macey smiled, like we were taking on the national team in a basketball match. "Yeah, I'm all for that."

At that moment, everything was planned out. No obstacles, no threats, no enemies to dodge and doors to kick down. But that all changed when the door swung open, a dark silhouette of a woman standing in the open doorway, saying, "So when do we leave?"

Headmistress Morgan took two steps forward and turned to me, "Didn't I tell you to stay in my office?"

I grinned sheepishly at Cammie's mom and shrugged, "I wasn't hungry."

* * *

**A/N: Not much of a filling chapter, this one. :/ But I did enjoy the extra bit with Rachel Morgan. At first, I didn't plan for Zach to meet Rachel but at around 2am last night, I said to myself, _"Why don't I have a cameo appearance in this chapter?" _So there you go! :) I did have an idea that Rachel mentioned something about Catherine since they should be of the same age and studied together at Gallagher. But then, if Rachel knew about Catherine and Zach, wouldn't she have warned Cammie? So...that was a pretty bum idea. Although I might do an AU one-shot about it...someday...sometime... **

**My playlist for this chapter was Yiruma's stuff (like Kiss the Rain, Maybe, Reminiscent and Love Hurts) and Brave's soundtrack (Touch The Sky, Learn Me Right and Into The Open Air)! I don't know how these songs are related to Zach but...whatever. I love them! :)**

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP**

**P.S. I read 'Uncommon Criminals' and 'Dash and Lily's Book of Dares.' Two brilliant books. Check them out! :) **


	5. Chapter 5

I don't know which one's worse- being in a van full of future spies (and one very experienced spy), and you being the only guy or sitting next to a very dangerous potential-girlfriend (who was one of the future spies in said van).

"Are you still mad at me?" I whispered as we crossed the Pennsylvania border. Cammie's eyes flickered once to mine but dropped back to her lap immediately without saying a word.

"Ooh, the silent treatment." I whispered again.

"I'm not talking to you, Zach." Cammie turned her head and snapped. "Because I know you're not going to really say anything anyway. Should I be asking you more questions you refuse to answer?" Then she glared pointedly out the window.

So after this 10-hour road trip, I have a tip for all you guys out there, whether you're an assassin or not- to get a girl out of the silent treatment, being annoying will definitely not help. Ever.

It won't help when you lean across to her best friend and say, "She's cute when she's silent."

It seriously won't help if you eat the last of the M&Ms. (But in my defense, I hadn't eaten anything except for the sandwiches at Blackthorne's canteen almost twelve hours ago.)

It also won't help if you put your head on the shoulder and try to take a nap. (I had been driving for the past nine hours without stopping. And there are no pillows on a Gallagher Academy van.)

It obviously doesn't help when you thumb-wrestle Liz who was sitting on her other side for the better part of Pennsylvania. (Liz might be tiny but her strategies will _kill _you. And I wasn't backing down with a 25 out of 49.)

And it won't help you even when you wait for Macey and Liz to fall asleep, lean close to her and whisper, "Are you sure you wanna do this, Gallagher Girl."

If I knew none of these would help earlier, I'd rather just shut up and drive.

* * *

"Pull over here." Headmistress Morgan said and Bex drove into a parking lot of an old gas station. I recognized it from the times I drove out of campus and knew that we weren't far from Blackthorne. Usually, no one drives by or even stops (with the detention facility and all near by). Except for this time. A glossy, black Mercedes appeared behind us. The driver turned sharply, stopping sideways from the van's bumper, spraying sand and gravel.

"Mom!" Cammie shot upright from her seat, alarmed. But at the same time, Bex also straightened up and shouted in surprise, "Mom?" Then she flung open the driver's door and leapt out of the van. I watched as the door of the black Mercedes opened and a woman with Bex's dark hair step out of the car.

"Hello, darling." Mrs. Baxter said and hugged Bex.

"Anything, Grace?" Mrs. Morgan climbed out of Liz van.

"Nothing," Bex's mom said. "You're clear."

At the same moment, a white pickup truck drove from the north and I recognized Mr. Baxter from London sitting behind the wheel. He hopped out of the truck and nodded at Mrs. Morgan, "All clear on my end, Rachel. You're free."

"Thanks, Abe." Mrs. Morgan said, sounding relieved. But I wasn't. I wanted to tell her that she was wrong, I wanted to say that no matter how 'clear' we were, there was always going to be someone smarter, faster, stronger chasing us. It was only a matter if this person was within Blackthorne's barbed fences or lurking in the shadows right behind us.

Obviously, Liz didn't know that and poked Cammie excitedly, "These are Bex's parents!" I smiled at her, despite everything. Anyone would get excited being on a mission with three Baxters.

Mrs. Morgan heard Liz and shrugged, "You didn't expect me not to recruit at least a little grown-up back up, did you?"

"We're going on a mission with Bex's parents!" Macey breathed like she still couldn't believe it.

But Mrs. Morgan shook her head and I knew what she was going to say next, "Actually girls, for unsanctioned ops, it's best to minimize the exposure of official agents."

"So why are you…" Bex asked and trailed off.

"They're not here to _help_ us," Cammie said flatly. "They're here to _guard_ me." And as the four roommates exchanged glances, it felt like D.C. again.

"Do you have the journal?" Mrs. Baxter asked.

Mrs. Morgan shook her head and pointed to Cammie. "No, _they_ beat me to it." And I swear there was a burst of pride shining in her eyes. Cammie and her roommates widened their eyes in surprise and I think Bex's mouth dropped open a little bit.

Before any of them could say anything, Macey called, "Abby?" And sure enough, another car was heading our way. Abby parked the car and stepped out, "Hey, Squirt. Playing hooky, I see."

Cammie shrugged, "Maybe this is a CoveOps field exercise."

Abby arched an eyebrow, "I know Agent Townsend well, Cams."

"Oh," Bex said.

"Which is why I am more than willing to take part in this little extracurricular assignment." Abby glanced at Mrs. Morgan. "Well…one of the reasons."

"What are our friends at Six saying, Abe?" Mrs. Morgan turned to Mr. Baxter.

"Same story, different accent. No one has a bloody clue where they've taken him. No one seems to bloody care." I was insulted at that. Joe Solomon was probably the most important person on the planet since he knew enough about the Circle to help us take them down. And when nobody cares about your mentor since sixth grade, you kinda get a little offended.

"I care." I said from where I stood from the van. I hadn't gone far from it. I wasn't exactly in the mood to mingle with the people who had heard about Mom and no doubt, heard about me. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I unwillingly drew attention to myself. The last thing I wanted was the Baxters to start seeing Mom in me.

Unfortunately, that happened and I asked myself if there were people more prejudiced than them.

"Hello, Zachary." Mrs. Baxter said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she saw me. "It's very nice to meet you. Rachel has told us… It's very nice to meet you." I took all of my self-control (and respect for Bex Baxter) to not roll my eyes and storm away to Blackthorne on my own. So I muttered, "You too." I simply didn't care if they heard me or not.

"Ready?" Mrs. Baxter turned away a little too quickly. And we started moving. Or at least, everyone else started moving as I stood at the edge of the road. Mrs. Baxter tossed a pair of car keys to Mrs. Morgan and joined her husband in the pickup truck. Abby slid back into the SUV and Cammie and Co. started for Liz's van.

But Mrs. Morgan said, 'It stays here. We can't take the risk that someone might trace it back to you and the school." Then she turned to Cammie and asked calmly, "Do you have everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready." Cammie replied. But I seriously doubted that.

After watched each of the vehicles disappear into the dark, Macey asked, "And what are _we_ supposed to do?"

"We walk." I smiled and for the first time, there were no adults, no turning around and going back and definitely no one to ask for directions. It made me feel alive, awake and maybe even exhilarated. And for the first time, I felt completely at home.

* * *

Walking back to Blackthorne, I honestly felt like I was heading back to my dorm after a particularly tiring exercise out in the woods. Except that the footsteps behind me were a lot lighter. And had curves in their shadows. And knew absolutely nothing about Blackthorne.

"How long until we get to the school?" Cammie asked.

"Not long." I still wasn't very comfortable disclosing much about Blackthorne since I had spent the past 7 years shutting up about it.

"How many guards will there be on patrol at our point of entry?"

I shrugged, "Don't know." Seriously, I didn't know. Out of all my time at Blackthorne, I had sneaked out of it by using my skills and pure wit. If there were guards, I'd hide. If there weren't, I'd keep going. There wasn't any schedule or rotation; you simply had to see for yourself. (And routine is a major weakness in espionage.)

"What's the interval of the security camera sweep?"

"Hard to say." I ducked when they pointed at me.

Then her hand was on my arm and she asked, "What do you know, Zach?"

"You're on my home turf now, Gallagher Girl. Do you have a problem with that?" I said sarcastically.

"Guys…" Liz started.

"Maybe I do," Cammie snapped back at me, gripping my arm tighter.

"Cam…" Bex said.

"Maybe I-" Cammie started to say but Bex grabbed her arm.

"Cam, listen!" Bex hissed in the dark. She poked Cammie and gestured for her to _listen closer. _I lifted a corner of my mouth- they had heard the waterfall. I continued walking forwards and soon, the trees thinned out and a steady breeze rippled through the open grass. It was weird hearing the familiar pounding of the waterfall and smelling the water on the breeze. Especially when it mingled with Cammie's woodsy, sweet smell and Bex's perfume.

"_What is that?" _Macey yelled over the deafening roar of the rushing water.

"That's our ride."

* * *

"Are you _sure _there's no other way in?" Liz asked, voice positively trembling and her knuckles were white from gripping her laptop in its waterproof case. She was sandwiched between Macey and Bex who both had their arms wrapped around all three of them as they sat in the middle of the black rubber boat. I somehow managed to stop myself from saying, '_It's perfectly fine. The boat won't capsize- I've done it with 6 other guys once.'_

Instead, I laughed. "Only the ones that sane people might use."

"And what's wrong with being sane?" Macey yelled.

I smiled and yelled back, "_Insane means fewer cameras!" _Then I pushed against the riverbank and the boat picked up speed. The river pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat in my ears. I was already anticipating the drop in my stomach as we went over the falls. I was actually smiling, and that made it all better.

"Zach…" Cammie started. "Zach, why did the river disappear? _Zach!_" But we were already falling.

* * *

Maybe it was the fact that I had been over the waterfall quite a few times in my life. Or maybe it was the fact that I back where I once called home and where I learnt all my skills. Or maybe it was the massive amounts of adrenaline coursing through my veins that made me literally spring to my feet after pulling myself onto dry, Blackthorne soil as Cammie and the others still sprawled on the grass, gasping and panting.

I automatically studied Blackthorne- the cliffs, the fields, the rifle ranges…nothing had changed. It looked exactly how I imagined and knew it would be in the spring. The grass springy, short and newly grown. The waterfall was flowing a bit faster due to the thaw. And a few lights were on. I knew what those lights meant- a class was doing a drill in the training fields tonight. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for them.

"No fences?" Cammie asked, still trembling from the stunt.

I looked at her and said, "No need." I pointed to the river and cliffs. "Besides, this isn't the kind of place people are anxious to visit." A small part of my brain registered that I was speaking with completely no emotion at all. "You'll see."

* * *

"Are those…?" Cammie caught her breath.

"Yeah." I answered, knowing where her eyes were.

"How far away are the targets?" Bex asked.

"Far." I whispered.

We kept walking and I knew they all saw the trenches that were dug solely for the purpose of war games (the hardcore type) and camouflage training. I knew they saw the rope course for both strategy and strength training (again, the hardcore type). And the muddy paths and rocky hills that we used for what Grant calls 'Track and Hunt Class'. And I didn't feel very excited anymore.

Finally, we reached the 15 feet tall barber fence that circled Blackthorne's main grounds. I already could see the scenarios and possibilities running through their minds.

"Subtle," Bex said, staring up at it.

"This is the perimeter of the central grounds." I said almost robotically. "As far as the general public knows, Blackthorne ends here." Which means no one knows about the rifles, the trenches and the rope courses. "Follow the fence, and two hundred yards down you'll find a data access point that all of the electronic security runs through." I glanced at Liz. "You know what you have to do?"

Liz grinned in the moonlight, "Yes."

"You're up to it? Because you're only going to have sixty seconds to run the hack. Sixty seconds or we don't make it in. _Or _back."

"I know." I could _hear _Liz rolling her eyes in her voice.

"She's got it." Macey said firmly.

I took a deep breath, "Yeah. I know." It would take a complete moron to not trust Liz to run a hack within sixty seconds. "I'm just…it looks different from this side, you know?" To Cammie, Liz was an unstoppable, genius force of a computer that could best anyone. But to me, Liz was only a genius out of many. I knew seniors who could beat her at pop quizzes at two in the morning without a drop of coffee. I knew juniors who could hack into Swiss banks without needing to know the security software. And I was sure that Jonas could plan out an infallible battle strategy _and _join the fight. Sure, Liz was outstanding in the outside world but here…she could be labeled as only _'excellent'. _

"Security between here and there?" Bex asked.

"Walk softly and you'll be fine." I replied.

"Bex and Liz can handle the perimeter. Maybe I should come with you." Macey offered.

"The more people who go, the more likely we'll get seen." Cammie countered.

"Yeah. Which is exactly why you should stay here." I said to Cammie. I had enough Gallagher Girls on Blackthorne soil today. Besides, if anyone caught _her _here, Mom would know. The whole Circle would know. And everything would be over, just like that. She could stay here with her best friends, right outside the perimeter while I went in and grabbed the journal. Then I could hand it to Liz/Cammie to analyze (and memorize) and maybe find a way to find Joe.

"You said yourself you don't know exactly what's in there, Zach. Going in without backup is foolish." Cammie argued.

"Then let me be foolish." _It's not like they'll hurt me. I have a right to be here. _

"No."

"Why?" I bit back.

"Because I have to _do something_, okay? I can't sit tight and…be patient…I need to _do_ something." Cammie said desperately.

"We're leaving her with you." Macey said after a moment of silence, staring right at me.

"I'll be fine, Macey." Cammie said soothingly but Macey didn't seem to hear her.

"We're leaving her with _you_. And if you make us regret that…" Macey threatened.

"_I won't._" I said firmly and I knew it was absolutely true.

* * *

As I led Cammie through the gates and through muddy ditches, I was seriously tempted to whip around and knock her unconscious and get Joe's journal on my own because Cammie was seeing everything. She could see the dorms and blocks where I lived, she could see every bar and grate by the window, and she could see the freshman class jogging across the grounds.

We lay on our stomachs as the searchlight cut through the night above us and illuminated the class running across the fields. I whispered, "Night drills." Thankfully, Cammie didn't ask why.

A pair of headlights glowed in the darkness at the front gates, illuminating the gravel lane and guard station.

"Mom," Cammie muttered.

"Right on time," I commented dryly. When the car drove towards the main buildings, Cammie lifted the binoculars to her eyes and I already knew what she was seeing. BLACKTHORNE INSTITUE FOR BOYS, PRIVATE DETENTION FACILITY. DANGER. NO TRESPASSING BEYONG THIS POINT. She slowly let the binoculars drop down and stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. I knew Cammie well enough that she was putting all the pieces of the puzzle together- the exchange program, the too-neat dorms and everything that I said about Blackthorne.

"You've got your cover, Gallagher Girl." I said softly. "We've got ours."

It was hard to read Cammie's eyes afterwards- eyes that I thought were easy to understand, eyes that I knew. She studied me and started to pull away but my hands were on her shoulders, making her stay put. I moved one of my hands to cup her face and stared right into her eyes.

"Stay here." I whispered, practically pleading her. "Please, Gallagher Girl, just stay here." I was pressed up against her now. I could feel her heartbeat, I could feel her chest rising with every breath she took and I could hardly push away the mental images of Cammie not moving. Ever again. But Cammie just leaned forwards and kissed me. She didn't need words now. Cammie only needed to kiss me longer and deeper than ever before for me to know that she wasn't backing down. Not now, not ever.

Then she pulled away and said, "So, where is it you're taking me again?"

It was nice that my voice didn't crack as I said, "The tombs."

* * *

**A/N: I am seriously sorry for the wait. School is starting soon and I have to get ready, which means my tutor is trying to cram the first semester into five lessons I have each week. (Uncool, I tell you. **_**Uncool.**_**) Then 'dearest' mother is making sleep early so my sleeping schedule isn't screwed when school officially starts. Then I had to spend a huge amount of time making sure I didn't miss any holiday homework like double-checking my essays and reports. And what's more is that I got contacts and my eyes are still adjusting to it so I couldn't read/write for half a week (thank goodness I don't have school right now).**

**Well, those are the proper, valid and good reasons why this chapter took so long. The not-so-good reason is that I bought **_**Perks of Being a Wallflower **_**and started reading the Chinese version of Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. (Yes, my mother language is actually Chinese. But I seriously suck at it.)**

**Anyways, I SERIOUSLY HAVE TO THANK EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF MY READERS WHO REVIEWED/FAVORITED. (I **_**had**_** to CAPS it to get my gratefulness across.) Really, I thank everyone who has even made it to this Author's Note. **

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP**

**P.S. Unfortunately, school is starting soon so the next chapter might have to take a tad longer time. *****Cringes… Sorry. :/ **


	6. Chapter 6

On a normal (or as normal as if ever gets) covert operation, you'd have back up, probably a folder filled with the mission objectives and information and most of all, basic directions. But while trekking across the Blackthorne campus, the mission file was a pile of ashes at the bottom of one of the trash bins in the Chem labs, the only direction was '_east' _and our closest back up was two-miles away, by the fences, saying, "Chameleon, what did he say again? Because we're searching the database for 'tombs', but-"

"It's not _in _the database," I said, carefully treading on one of the muddy paths while studying the footprints. Apparently, the seniors had a 'Track and Hunt' session today.

"Is it some kind of cemetery? We can't find an entrance on the-"

"There are no recorded entrances." I checked right after I had explored a bit of the caves.

"Or references to it anywhere." Bex finished, sounding a bit annoyed.

I glanced at Cammie and said, "It's not the kind of place that gets referenced."

"Cameras passing in three, two, drop!" Liz said from her post. I already saw the moving shadows and dropped to the ground like Cammie.

"Roll." Liz's soft voice floated into my ear and I shifted my weight so I was tumbling down a muddy ditch like I did so many times during training. Voices and heavy footsteps fell rhythmically overhead and I continued crawling forwards, making sure my hands and knees didn't make the mud squelch.

"Wait, it's not an actual tomb, is it?" Macey asked. I didn't answer that and kept moving east- towards the hills of Blackthorne.

"What are the tombs, Zach?" Cammie was the one who asked this time. I didn't answer and kept walking along a path, obviously not used for the past few years, looking at the undergrowth that was trying to swallow it up into the forest. The path was steeping upwards as the trees grew thicker.

"Guys, you're clear now." Liz said and I started to push around the moss-covered rocks, hoping to find some sort of secret entrance to the caves.

"What are you looking for?" Cammie asked.

"There should be an entrance around here somewhere." I kicked at the dead leaves and fallen branches to see if there was any clue, anything that was out of place to lead us into the caves. "It'll be hidden- made to blend in." It was hard enough finding the entrance in the dojo. I didn't want to know how long it was going to take to find the entrance out here. "But there should be a switch, or maybe…"

"A lever?" Cammie asked, walking three feet to a tree, growing at an oddly shaped angle from all he other trees on the mountainside. One of the branches didn't have a single leaf on it and she pulled it down. "You mean like this one?"

* * *

"Caves?" _Yep, caves. Gotcha, Gallagher Girl. _"The tombs are caves?"

"Watch your step." I just said. Small stones littered the ground and I hoped none of us would trip on them and bang our heads. We started to walk further into the caves. It was like entering a swimming pool, the dark engulfing us but resurfacing as naked light bulbs lit the way. _What? Naked. Light. Bulbs. _Oh, no. This is bad. _This is seriously bad. _

Remember when I said once I discovered some irregular dust patterns once? And some warm light bulbs? Yep, I'm thinking we'll find them tonight. Obviously, the first people on the list were the Circle. Thanks to my reflex reactions, my research came back to me and I said, "The Native Americans indigenous to this area used to bury their dead in caves like this. That's why the call it the tombs. The army used this whole area for weapons testing and training in World War Two." We walked forwards and another light bulb appeared. "After the war, they found another use for it."

I remembered the straw dummies and steel tables with scalpels scattered all over them, "We don't really…" I looked at Cammie and drew strength from her gaze. "We don't really use them anymore."

"How far do they go?" Cammie asked.

"Far." I honestly didn't know.

"How many branches and offshoots are there?"

"A lot."

"Are you going to tell me why you were so desperate to keep me out of here?"

I stopped in mid-step, thinking of all the things (and possibilities of the Circle) that we would see down here, "You'll see for yourself soon enough." And I continued walking forwards, still thinking where the heck we were going. Joe had told me to follow the water and I was considering throwing that scrap of advice away because in the caves, I couldn't even _hear _the waterfall. There was no water dripping down from the ceiling like it did in Indiana Jones's movies or- wait.

There was water. Right there. In the form of black pools in the dips on the ground and I could spot a shimmer of reflected bulb lights in front. So I followed them with Cammie trying to keep up behind me.

* * *

After two hours of walking, Cammie suggested, "Maybe we should split up."

"You stay with me." I replied and that issue was not to be discussed again. Ever. Then the tunnel started to slope gently upwards. "Watch your step."

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls you bring down here." Cammie said.

I knew she was teasing but I stopped, turned around and looked at her seriously, "_No one _comes down here." Or at least, I hoped no one else comes down here.

Five feet ahead, I could hear a faint but steady dripping of water, leaking through cracks on the ceiling and pooling into puddles. _We must be getting close, _I thought. I quickened my pace but instead, the stone passageway widened to a large concrete chamber filled with the familiar target-dummies and stainless steel pliers and syringes. Cammie's shadow grew still and slowly turned around as she took in the sight. I felt like slamming myself against the wall now. This was Cammie, probably the only person who didn't see Mom in me and not to mention that I seriously cared about her. And she was here, in Blackthorne. Looking at the things I grew up with, seeing what this place truly was and…knowing this is where I came from.

Cammie had no problem taking me on a tour around Gallagher. It was her pride, her joy and her home. But me? There was nothing to be proud of here.

"We don't use it anymore." I said softly, finding no strength to speak at a normal volume. "We really _don't_ use it anymore."

"Zach…what is this place?"

"You really don't know what kind of school this is, do you?" I'm not even sure if that was sarcastic or not.

"It's a _spy _school." Cammie snapped.

I shook my head slowly, "Not spies. Not always."

"Then what?" Cammie demanded.

"Come on, Gallagher Girl- a school in the middle of nowhere for troubled boys with no other place to go? You know what this place is." _Don't make me say it, Cammie. Please, don't._

"No," Cammie insisted. "Mr. Solomon went here. He-"

"Was starting to change things." I cut in and stepped closer. "You know what we are, Gallagher Girl."

Cammie shook her head, "No, you can't be…"

"Assassins." I finished for her. I couldn't have used a plainer word. '_Killers' _didn't kill with purpose. _'Wet work artists' _was just ironic. Killing people wasn't an art, taking a life didn't make you particularly skilled in the field. "I told you this place was made to prepare for war- World War Two, the Cold War, and all the wars that could have happened but didn't. Or haven't yet. We _don't _use it anymore."

"Is this why they don't trust you? The Baxters… Aunt Abby-"

"Are smart people with good instincts." I couldn't stand Cammie's gaze anymore. I didn't want to see what was in there. I knew how they looked like when they were sad, happy, surprise…but I didn't want to see them angry, or even disgusted. _At me. _

"But that doesn't make any sense, Zach. You didn't build this place. What could you have possibly done that is so terrible?"

"No!" I shouted. I _had _done terrible things. I _did _feel guilty. I didn't want to tell Cammie anything about training, about the Circle, about Joe.

"Really. You can tell me."

"No. I really can't." Blackthorne Boys don't cry. Spies don't cry, especially not assassins. But if I weren't any of those, I would've.

* * *

I think all of the confessions made my hearing and sight go a bit wonky. For a while, I couldn't see the pools of water that I trusted to bring me to the journal. Or maybe it was just the tunnels' fault that two tunnels were blocked by cave-ins so with all the going around and branches, we had to backtrack a hundred yards or so. But finally. _Finally. _I could hear a faint rushing of water. It was too faint for someone not used to the sound of pounding water to pick up. Deep inside me, I could feel a subtle vibration that only a person living in a Blackthorne dormitory for 6 years to sense. And I knew this was a Blackthorne thing. _Joe Solomon was a Blackthorne Boy. _

"I've never been this deep." I said quietly. I could see the walls getting older and the concrete floor more cracked as we continued forwards. At the same time, the faint rushing of water grew steadier.

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but do you know where we're going?" Cammie asked.

I smiled, "Not really." _But now I know. _I reached for Cammie's hand and bent to ease beneath a low-hanging arch because just past that arch, I could see a faint outline of a filing cabinet. "Joe told me where he left it, just in case…in case of this."

"And where's that?"

I stopped and pointed forwards, "In there."

* * *

The two-story room was lined with bulging cabinets. Boxes filled with folders, binders and reports of goodness-knows-what from who-knows-when. I stood on a metal landing on the second floor with Cammie, just above a metal ladder leading down.

"It's… It's sort of like Blackthorne's version of Sublevel Two." I said slowly before climbing down the metal stairs. I paused for a while, scanning the shelves. Maybe I also had to follow the water here. Maybe the journal was at the corner of the room where the sound of the waterfall was loudest. And that was the far side of the room. I crossed the room and squatted down. Joe had placed Matthew's journal on the highest shelf, it made sense to put it on the lowest in Blackthorne. And there it was- a spiral bound notebook. It was completely ordinary, any schoolboy could carry it and no one would look twice. But it was wrapped in plastic, meaning it was meant to be preserved, to last.

"That's _it?_" Cammie said in surprise as I tucked it into my belt and under my jacket. Without another word, I took Cammie's hand and climbed the stairs. As we started down the tunnel we came from, hair started to prickle on the back of my neck. A tiny jolt of electricity, a channel of energy touched the back of my mind- it was the short message between predator and prey.

I tightened my grip on Cammie's hand and readied myself to run or hide. But in the end, it was pointless. Voices had started to fill the air. We couldn't exactly run anymore because…_Mom. _So we hid.

* * *

It took me a moment to take in what was currently happening right in front of my eyes. Mom was there, with all the Circle agents I've ever known (including the new recruits of seniors and Chester) standing guard around Joe Solomon. And Joe…his hands were tied up, one of his eyes were swollen and bruised and there was a long gash on his leg. I had studied torture before, I could see what they did to him. They had asked him a question. When he didn't answer, they gave him a slash on the leg, to show that they were willing to hurt him. They asked him again. He still didn't answer and they had gotten more brutal, punching him in the eye. Possibly more than once. To show that they wouldn't, ever, go soft on a former agent.

"Okay," Mom said, turning to Joe. "Now where is it?"

"What?" Joe spat and Mom stuck Joe's face so hard that blood splattered across the ground. My stomach clenched as I watched Joe's chest heave and swallow heavily.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time." Mom's voice dropped down to a whisper. "Where is the log book that belonged to Matthew Morgan?"

Cammie's breath caught and I knew she was thinking the same thing as I was- why did Joe Solomon bring the Circle here? Matthew Morgan's journal wasn't here. If Joe couldn't hand them the journal…

"No." I gasped as I spotted the cables cobwebbing the walls, connecting from every single folder, every single binder to a box of explosives. Of course, Joe would've known that I would've taken the journal once I knew he was taken so we still could stand a chance against the Circle because he was going to point to any random file, Mom would take it and… It was the perfect plan. Except that Joe only miscalculated one thing- we were still in the tombs.

My mind raced forwards. I needed time, I needed it now to get Cammie out of here. That's it, I was going in. I could already imagining my shadow moving into the center of the room, telling my mother that Matthew Morgan's journal was somewhere halfway around the world. Mom would kill me, or maybe keep me locked up somewhere in a cell but that was enough for Cammie to get out of here alive. Enough time for Cammie to get her roommates and mother and drive far, far away to read Joe's journal. From there, she would have enough information to take down the Circle. Even if it meant she had to do it alone.

Yes, I was exposing my true identity as a traitor. Yes, I was risking my life for Cammie. Yes, I was only 17 years old. I hadn't done much in my life, I didn't have any glorious moments so be proud of, I didn't do things that made me a hero. So maybe it's time to do something brilliant, maybe it was my turn to be the hero, maybe the last thing I ever did was going to mean something. My death would mean her survival and it was worth it. Completely and always worth it.

I started to stand up, to hand myself over but Cammie grabbed me, "Think, Zach. We only have one chance."

I stared into Cammie's eyes, savoring the last glimpse of them. "Cammie, you have to take this." I pressed the notebook into her hands. "You have to run."

"No. I have to help him," Cammie insisted. I almost smiled at her infamous stubbornness.

I squeezed her hands tighter. They were warm, they always were. From the wintry day doing brush passes until now, my last moments. "You have to _live. _Now go, and don't look back for anything." _Don't try to find me. Don't try to find Joe. Don't try to come back because…it'll be too late. _

"But, Zach-"

"They won't hurt me."

Cammie opened her mouth to argue but it was too late. We were surrounded.

* * *

Mom's laugh was probably the most horrible thing I've ever heard in my entire life. She doesn't usually laugh…but when she does, you know hell is about to break loose. I glared defiantly into her eyes. I knew them as well as I knew Cammie's and I could literally hear her thoughts. I already could guess that she was planning ways to get back at me. Her only son who was a traitor to her.

"Found them on sweep," one of the guards said and I recognized him as a senior, only a year older than I was. He was holding Cammie tightly, dragging her down the stairs in front of me. I resisted the urge to snarl at him to get his hands off her. Mom walked closer to Cammie, studying her. Despite the situation, it was strange to see Mom stand so close to Cammie. It was like two paradoxes had come together, it didn't quite make any sense.

"Oh, this is a surprise." Mom smiled. "Joe, you clever boy, why didn't you tell me you were bringing me presents?"

"They go or I give you nothing!" Joe yelled.

"Now why would I do that? Break up the touching reunion?" Mom reached out a hand, almost as if to touch Cammie's hair but she shifted at the last moment to stroke my cheek, "Hello, sweetheart. Aren't you going to introduce your little girlfriend to your mother?" Of course, Catherine Goode would choose the most horrifying way of getting back at me.

Once the last word fell from Mom's mouth, Cammie's eyes darted from me to my mother and back. "She's your mother."

I reached for her, wanting to protest, explain…anything. "Gallagher Girl-"

"Don't touch me." The words couldn't have hurt more.

"It is very nice to finally meet you, Cammie. I've heard so much about you. I hope you're not afraid. I'm sure Joe here would gladly confirm that we don't want to kill you." _…yet._

"Cammie, I-" I started again, guilt stabbing at me, making me bleed more than any dagger ever could. But she pulled away, anger plainly flashing in her eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can see why you like her." Mom laughed. "But now, everyone spread out and look for Morgan's diary." Then she turned her gaze on Cammie and I. "And someone search the two of them."

And the moment before any guard could search Cammie, I summoned all my persuasive talents and said, "Now!"

As Cammie sprang into action, I aimed a good forwards kick and managed to make one of the filing cabinets fall over and crash onto my mother. It knocked her to the ground and one of the guards ran to her and tried to help her up.

"What are you doing?" She yelled. "Get her!"

But I didn't stop to see what happened next. I had already grabbed an ancient rusted sword and swung it at two of the guards. One of them tried to slash at my neck while the other aimed for my leg and I blocked both blows with one, long downright movement. The blades clashed and a metallic sound echoed in the cave. With a flick of my wrist, I managed to twist one of the blades out of one of the guards' hands. I buried my sword into his shoulder, feeling the metal sink into flesh and making him sink to the ground. In another second, I was already dodging a slash from the last remaining guard and plunged the blade into his unprotected side.

Once I made sure none of them were of any threat, I ran to Joe's side who was currently fighting Chester. Chester's eyes widened as he saw me, he was about to say something when my mother suddenly yelled, "No!" And there was a familiar clatter on the floor. I spun around and I could see that Cammie was just standing there, alone. No one was fighting her, no one was in her way. And a tunnel was opening up behind her.

And I knew what to do. I scooped up the gun and shouted, "Now! Run!"

I aimed the gun at the box of explosives. A small part of my mind told me it was an easy shot, I could never miss this from so many sessions of target practice.

"No!" Cammie screamed. I glanced up for a split second and found Cammie's eyes again. I repeated my message in my mind, hoping that she would remember- _Don't come back for me. Don't come back for Joe. Keep running, keep breathing, keep fighting, keep…living. And don't look back. _

_Because this is…_

"Good-bye." I whispered and pulled the trigger.

* * *

**A/N: I'm still in shock on how quickly I updated this chapter. Maybe it was because I was drinking too much milk tea. Or maybe because the wifi was down and I could do nothing else but type. Or maybe because this chapter was so gripping. Even for me. And, I kid you not, I was struggling to fight back tears while writing this. (I remember when I read OGSY for the first time and Cammie wrote/said in her mind, 'Zach was dead.' I had to reread that line a couple times before I could move on because...well, just because.) So, there you go! :) **

**But seriously, school is starting in 2 days so...there might be a wait for the next chapter. I sincerely hope that it won't take longer than a week because A) I've kind of given you a cliffhanger and I know how it kills a reader and B) I'll miss Zach. A lot. ERGO, fingers crossed, everyone! **

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP**


	7. Chapter 7

It was hard to tell what happened next. First, there was a huge ball of fire, completely filling up my vision and its roaring echoing into my chest. It was like standing right next to the sun. No, not the small yellow marble you see in the sky, the GIANT ball of fiery gas that is suspended in space. And it was hot, so very, _very,_ hot. The heat wasn't just rolling off in waves, it cut through the air like knives.

Then before I could close my eyes and wait for the end, something pulled me by the back of my collar, hard. I twisted around to see who had grabbed me but the ground gave way and I was falling. In the rumbling of the explosion, I could hear rocks crumbling, I could feel air rushing…it was like the tombs of Blackthorne were _alive. _

Then two thuds sounded, a few sickening snaps and the world went dark.

* * *

"Zach. Zach! Wake up. You have to wake up. Zach! Can you hear me? Come on, I can't carry two of you." Someone was shaking me, calling my name. For a moment, I thought it was Cammie's voice coming back to me from the back of my mind until some fuzzy memory told me that it was really the voice of Chester Parker, high pitched with fear.

"Chester…?" I groaned, opening my eyes. And I felt as if I was sinking back into my body. I could feel my arms and legs and…like an elephant just stampeded my head. "Are…are we dead?"

"Not so much." Chester came into view. "But we might if you don't move fast enough."

I sat up, the throbbing in my head getting worse and I noticed that I was sitting on a huge pile of rocks, "What happened?" My voice was croaked and hoarse. My throat felt like I had swallowed a whole bucket of sand (which I probably did).

"Joe Solomon grabbed us right after you shot the explosives, the ground crumbled and…we survived. One millisecond late and we might not have made it." Chester said, breathing heavily. "Solomon's broke our fall, he's right under you. He might not have made it."

The pain in my head immediately numbed and I stood up, "Where is he?" I looked down and Joe's limp body was half covered in rubble, his forehead was covered in blood and a thin trail of blood was still trickling down from the corner of his mouth. "Joe!" I fell to my knees and started to shove the rocks away.

"Zach, the place is still on fire!" Chester yelled urgently. I started to hear a familiar crackle and my still blurry senses registered that the air was choking and filled with smoke. The tombs were alight with flames. "We should go."

"I'm not leaving him," I snapped and put a finger to Joe's neck. "He still has a pulse." _A miracle. _Chester fell silent and I expected him to run but instead, he knelt down to help me.

"Do you know how to get out of here?" I asked while we worked.

"Yes, I've been exploring the caves. I know them a lot better than the other agents." Chester panted as he heaved a particularly huge rock out of the way. Finally, Joe's body was completely uncovered and suddenly Chester grabbed my arm, "WATCH OUT!"

I was again pulled to the side with Joe's body draped over me as a loud _crash_ sounded, it was metal scraping against stone. A huge wall of orange sparks flew up and I could see one of the shelves was on fire and had fallen were Joe, Chester and I were just seconds ago.

My blood was still pounding in my ears as I looked up. The explosion had caused two 'level' of tunnels to crumble through so from two stories below, I could see the cave where I shot the explosives. I could see more burning shelves, the fire eating through the metal, all the folders and documents all going up in flame. For the first time, I started feeling the heat again. And all I could say was, "Wow…"

"Yeah, congrats. The explosives had enough power to make two floors cave in, now _run!_" Chester shouted and pulled on my arm. I carefully slung Joe over my back and started after Chester down a tunnel. I stumbled a few times, blinded by smoke and suffocated by the heat of the fire. After swerving left and right a few times, the tunnel slowly sloped upwards and the sweet fresh air rushed into my lungs. I greedily gulped in air, I had never felt so grateful to be outside…wherever outside was.

"Where are we?" I managed to gasp.

"On…on the ridge of Blackthorne," Chester was also coughing and puffing. "The waterfall's just over there." He pointed to his right and the wall of white water was just two yards away.

I nodded and set Joe gently on the cool grass. I felt his sides and limbs, "This is crazy-" Another coughing bout attacked me. "He's broken half of the bones in his body. His skin is burnt, maybe the second or third degree, I'm not sure."

"Internal bleeding as well," Chester dropped onto the ground and pointed weakly to the blood from Joe's mouth. "You're no sight for sore eyes as well." I looked down at myself for the first time. The front of my jacket was burned off, leaving only scraps on my shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was still intact, if not a bit singed. My pants had holes burned into them, cuts and scratches on my arms and legs peered out of the holes and there was a particularly large gash on my right arm that was only starting to throb when I noticed it. I didn't have any broken bones but I was sore all over. Besides that, I was in one piece.

"Hey, look. You're girlfriend's over there." Chester had crawled to the edge of the ridge. He pointed to the bottom of the waterfall. I could see helicopters and tiny figures of people surrounding her. Something white flashed under the moonlight and I knew Cammie was being carried onto a stretcher. Even from up here, I could see her writhing on it while someone (her mother?) stood beside her. I sighed in relief- she was alive. She had survived. And so did I.

I shook my head, "How am I still alive?"

It was meant to be a statement but to my surprise, Chester said matter-of-factly, "Solid volcanic ash. When the box exploded, it was soft enough to crumble and we fell out of the fire."

I frowned, "How did volcanic ash get here?"

"Zach, Blackthorne is in the middle of an extinct volcano crater." Chester said softly.

The news slammed into me and if I were standing, I would have stumbled backwards, "_What?" _

"Look, Zach. We're standing on the ridge of the volcano crater." Chester gestured to the cliff we were standing on. "Down there is the crater and the waterfall," he pointed to the falls, "falls from the rim of the volcano, into the crater."

I studied Blackthorne with new eyes- the cliffs were shaped in a crescent, with the waterfall pouring downwards in the middle. The cliffs then faded away into the hilly woodland of Blackthorne and in the middle of the crescent, were our training fields and the main campus. And at the far side, where there were no more hills or cliffs, was the main entrance of Blackthorne that the public knew about. Chester was right- I had always thought that Blackthorne was in the middle of a great, big stone hollow but it was really a gigantic volcanic crater.

"The volcano must've erupted millions of years ago, perhaps when the dinosaurs were still around. The lava and volcanic ash is still here, solidifying over time. Somebody probably tunneled into the ash, creating the tombs. Yeah, the ash was hard enough to stand on, but soft enough to crumble when the box exploded." Chester gave me a sideways glance. "It saved our life."

"Thank you, lava." I grinned.

"So…we'd better get Solomon to a hospital." Chester got back up on his feet and put one of Joe's lifeless arms around his neck.

"Wait, you're not going to kill me? Or him?" I asked as I slid under Joe's other arm.

Chester shook his head, "Only for this time, Goode. I'm still impressed by that stunt to save your girlfriend. It was really…knight-like of you."

"How do you know I was saving her?" I said.

"Come on, we were trained to be brilliant." Chester laughed. "We wouldn't have blown up the tombs just to take out such a small bit of the Circle. So I knew there was something special about that girl." A twinkle in his eye told me that he probably knew about the journal hidden with her. Apparently Blackthonre Boys did know too much for their own good.

"Joe Solomon would've." I said softly.

"But you're not Joe Solomon." Chester replied. Then he stopped walking. "This is where I leave you. The helicopter's right there- we were supposed to use it right afterwards." I looked up and saw the familiar outline of a chopper.

"Chester, why do they need her?" I asked as I continued to the chopper.

"Catherine told us that we just needed to ask her some questions." Chester said quietly as I set Joe into the co-pilot seat and started to do pre-flight checks. "Nothing else."

"Hey, if anyone asks, you did this because I threatened to kill you, alright?" I said, flipping switches. Chester nodded silently.

"Do you want to come with me?" I offered. "Really, I'm serious."

Chester shook his head and shifted his weight onto the other foot, "I'm with them."

"You could come with me, run away from them, we can end this." I said. "Then we'd be free."

He shrugged, "No thanks but I'd rather die fighting than running away. Besides, I'm in too deep. I wouldn't last two months, that's what happened to Solomon."

"I could, and I did." I said, leaning back into the pilot's seat.

Chester smirked, "Of course you did, you're Zach Goode."

I smiled and started to buckle my safety belt when Chester called over the whooshing blades, "Stay safe out there."

"I don't know." I yelled over the blades and nodded in the direction of Blackthorne. "Safe doesn't like me very much." Then the door slid shut and the copter lifted off the ground.

* * *

**03 53 hours**

**Operative Goode returns to the Gallagher Academy infirmary with a very injured Joe Solomon. He was treated, cleaned, and rested. But he was not offered a new set of clothes since, well, he was in a girls' school. Operative Goode also saw Operative Morgan lying on a sick bed, unconscious but alive. Operative Goode was so happy he could've kissed all the doctors and agents who kept her alive.**

**17 38 hours**

**Operative Goode was on his way to visit Joe Solomon when he saw Rachel Morgan entering the room with Cammie already inside Joe's room, awake on a wheelchair and holding Joe's journal. Mrs. Morgan catches Operative Goode's eye and motions him to wait outside.**

* * *

After a couple of minutes, the door opens. Cammie was pushed outside and for the first time since the tombs, we were alone. I looked at Cammie- she was bruised, bandaged and still looked completely exhausted. I didn't want to tire her with any more secrets, any more thinking or any more holding hands or such. So I kept quiet.

I didn't know what she was thinking when she saw me still covered in soot and my cuts bandaged, looking more broken than ever, standing in front of her. I didn't want to know either. And most of all, I knew I wouldn't be able to take Cammie not…caring for me any more. So I kept quiet.

Even Cammie didn't make a move. She didn't smile, she didn't reach for me and she didn't even ask about my well being.

She just said emotionlessly, "Hey. You should have this." She held out Joe's journal. "When he wakes up…" I didn't want to hear such a robotic tone from Cammie any more so I took the journal from her hand.

Our fingers brushed and for that split second, I think I saw a familiar light flicker in her hot chocolate eyes. I think she wanted to say something. I think she wanted to look at me the way she did before the tombs. And I wanted to reach towards her and say that no matter what happens, I'll always be here, right by her side.

But I heard the footfalls of Bex, Liz and Macey from the far side of the hall and I was already backing away into the shadows. My last glimpse of Cammie was of her wrapped up in Bex and Macey's arms.

* * *

Things I Did In The Last Few Weeks Of My Junior Year At Gallagher

(A List By Zach Goode):

1) Explored the campus more thoroughly. I found the pigeon coop and read Joe's journal using the code written on the blackboards.

2) As mentioned above, I read Joe's journal…and I can't even…

3) Hung out in the pigeon coop, reading advanced senior year texts for pretty much the whole time. Not like I needed it but…it never hurts to revise a little.

4) Avoid everyone. Because girls are mammals that are specialists in staring at boys. Especially when you're the only boy. So whenever I had no choice but to walk across the grounds, I kept my head down and hands in pockets. Body Language 101 for: I'm not in the mood. Besides, Bex, Liz and Macey almost never leave Cammie's side so I can't even get some privacy with her. So avoiding everyone is simple.

5) Did my best to stop thinking about Mom and the Circle. I was safe…finally.

* * *

It was a Sunday when the inevitable came- when I had to tell Cammie about…everything. I was visiting Joe in the early morning. It was Sunday so no one got up except for Cammie. The door was slightly ajar when I was going to walk right in and a familiar blonde head slammed backwards into me.

"Oops!" Cammie spun around.

"Sorry," I said, gripping Cammie's shoulders. Common sense told me that Cammie was the one who should be apologizing but at that moment, the 'sorry' meant a lot more than just a bump.

"I didn't see you… Sorry." Cammie said quickly and fidgeted uncomfortably. Then she ducked out of my grasp, turned around and ran away.

* * *

Cammie was standing in the pigeon coop when I went up there after lunch. I don't know if she knew I was up here all along or did she just come up here on a random guess. I was about to ask when she said, "He should be awake by now, shouldn't he? He's never going to wake up."

"Of course he is."

"This is never going to be over."

"Of course it is."

"This is-"

"Cammie, listen to me." I cut her off. "Don't talk- listen." I started right into her eyes, willing that she would just understand. "This isn't going to stop on its own. It's not going away. We can't stay here- we can't _hide _forever."

"She's your mother?" Cammie suddenly asked. I winced internally- I had known it was coming but I never expected it to hit so hard.

"I'm sorry, Cam. I-"

"You could have told me." Cammie's voice trembled slightly.

"No." I shook my head. _Like I would ever, ever say that. _"I couldn't. I couldn't lose the one person who didn't see _her _when they looked at me. I couldn't lose that." I thought of Dr. Steve, I thought of the Mr. and Mrs. Baxter and I thought of Grant and Jonas.

"Is my father alive, Zach?" Such a simple question but there was so much more at stake.

"I don't know." I told Cammie truthfully.

"She said he is."

"She lies." I said coldly.

Cammie paused then continued, "We should be dead."

I almost smiled at the irony, "I know."

"Mr. Solomon isn't waking up," Cammie said.

"We don't know that." I replied softly.

"Why does everyone get hurt but me?" Cammie asked.

"And me." I tried to smile but I couldn't.

"I can't go to Nebraska this summer. It's not safe for Grandma and Grandpa to be near me." She ran her fingers against the stone of the ledge. "I'm not safe."

"Where will you go?" I inched closer.

"I don't know."

"What will you do?" I asked.

Cammie shook her head, "I don't know." She sounded so hopeless, so fragile, so helpless. But then we were against the Circle. Perhaps we _were_ that hopeless, that fragile and that helpless. So I hugged her and kissed her. I wouldn't describe it as romantic. It was gratefulness and passion, just surging through us. I was grateful that she had made it. I was grateful that I had made it. And I was sure that we were passionate about each other. It didn't matter that my mother was Catherine Goode, it didn't matter that I was kissing someone who she could've been and it didn't matter that we were two of the most dangerous people on the planet. We were both here, and we were _alive_.

And a crazy idea popped into my head, "Run away with me." Cammie didn't seem to hear me and kissed me again.

"Gallagher Girl," I pulled back and cupped her face in my hands (this took an amazing amount of self-control). "We can go. We can run. We can get off the grid and stay off the grid until it's safe. For everyone." I leaned closer, almost resting my forehead on hers. "We can keep each other safe."

"What are you saying, Zach?" Cammie tried to push me away like she couldn't believe it.

"We're the only two people in the world the Circle will think twice about killing." I said.

"That's not funny." Cammie frowned.

"I'm not laughing." I said urgently and pulled her close to my chest. "You're right- no one's safe with us around. Listen to me, Cammie, we could do this. We've been training our whole lives to do this."

"I can't." Cammie shook her head. "No. No. My mother-"

"Would understand." I insisted fiercely. "I'm surprised she hasn't had the same idea." I took Cammie's hands in mine. "We. Can. Do. This."

Cammie studied me for a long time, her eyes roaming my face. I knew she was weighting options, calculating risks…until she said, "I can't leave with you, Zach." And she kissed me lightly.

The knot finally eased in my stomach as I rested my chin on her head, breathed in her comforting scent and said, "I know."

* * *

**A/N: School has started, which means all teachers have to go over all the basic things (that everyone already knows) like lab safety, what notebooks are you supposed to use, how many folders are you need to use and such so I can tune them out for 70% of the lesson without even missing anything important and VOILA! Le chapter appears in my head, I go home and type out everything and there you go. A new chapter. :) **

**And I'm afraid that there is slim chance that I will be writing OSOT in Zach's POV. Unfortunately, Ally Carter has _blessed _us with a 90% appearance of Zach Goode in the fifth book so there really isn't much space that is available to work on. But I might try to re-read OSOT and hopefully, find some loopholes and stuff to 'build on'. But if there isn't, I think 'Wolf Moon' will end when Zach gets word that Rachel Morgan has found Cammie. Nonetheless, I am still looking forwards to the rest of this story that I'm going to write and hopefully you are too! And thank you to EVERYONE who has read, review and favorited. Thank you all so much! **

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP**


	8. Chapter 8

At Blackthorne, dawn drills were a common sight. The training fields could be alive and boys stalking through the woods at any hour of the night, day or morning. After a good round of 'Track and Hunt' sessions ending at five in the morning, the showers were running until six, just in time for our breakfast and a quick snooze before the first class of the day.

But at Gallagher, roaming the grounds was considered dangerous, highly suspicious and slightly crazy. Having a shower before seven in the morning was ridiculous and finishing your breakfast by 6.15am is definitely a sign of unhealthy obsession of food. So when I came back from a thorough work out in the P&E barn, the last thing I expected was Macey McHenry standing in the middle of my dorm, blue eyes wide, whispering, "Cammie's gone."

* * *

"That's not possible," I snapped angrily as we ran back to their dorm, not caring if our pounding footsteps woke up other girls.

"Do you want me to repeat it all over again?" Macey hissed impatiently as we practically leapt up a staircase. "Liz woke up early from a nightmare about her failing her COW final or something. She looked over to Cammie's bed because she wanted Cammie to get some warm milk with her and no one was in bed. Got it? Or do I need a Powerpoint presentation?" She stopped and looked at me, "She's out there and…" Macey didn't need to finish for me to know what was coming next.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." I tried to comfort her as we continued to their suite at a slower pace. "We're going to find-"

"I doubt that." Bex and Liz appeared at the other end of the corridor. Bex had her arms folded. There was no swagger in her steps, just fierce concern for her missing roommate. "We searched everywhere for Cam but there's no sign of her."

"Did you check the pigeon coop?" Macey raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes."

"The library?"

"Of course."

"The kitchens?"

"What part of 'everywhere' did you not understand?" Bex rolled her eyes.

"But we found this." Liz said softly and she stretched out her hand. We leaned closer, expecting a message, an explanation, a number to call…anything but a black Moleskin notebook.

"That's Cam's CoveOps report." Macey took it from Liz's hands, flipping through the pages, all filled with neatly written words. Some looked like they had been scribbled hastily and others were written neatly like Cammie had given a lot of thought on them. "She said she was finishing it yesterday morning."

"Finishing it to run away." Bex added harshly. I glanced questioningly at her. It wasn't like Bex to talk like this, especially about Cammie. But I could see her eyes were hollow and hands trembling. She was angry a Cammie for running away.

"There is nothing in here." Macey growled in frustration, turning pages furiously. "Absolutely nothing. It really is…just a CoveOps report. The break-in at Blackthorne, last Christmas at London, following the pigeons…that's it."

"Look at the last page." I said quietly. Cammie was finishing it yesterday morning, which was only 12 hours since I asked her to run away with me. 'With me' being the keywords here. Macey looked at me like I was some sort of dangerous predator and flipped to the last few pages. I could hear her breath catch as she scanned the words.

"_No…_" She gasped.

And the pages were in Bex's hands, "What does it mean by 'Zach was right'? _What does it mean, Zach?_" I could hear the fire in her voice and for the first time, I was almost afraid to look at Bex Baxter.

"I asked her to run away with me. It was the only way to keep the Circle away from all of us." I started slowly, the guilt was bitter in my mouth. My hands automatically clenched into fists to stop myself from slamming them into the nearest wall. "We were going to go off the grid and-"

"_You told her to run away!" _Bex screamed. "Have you lost your mind? You, of all people should know what's out there. You've _seen_ what's out there, Zachary Goode."

"I was supposed to go with her!" I tried desperately to explain. I wasn't lying- there was already a packed backpack under my bed, ready to leave anytime. "I didn't tell her to go off alone."

"Of course she would go off alone." Bex lashed back. "Don't you know Cammie?" I flinched at her last words as she stormed off to the Headmistress's Office.

* * *

Various Actions We Took Within 12 Hours of Cammie's Disappearance

(A List By Zach Goode):

Headmistress Morgan, alumni and faculty: Started an actual headquarters in Sublevel One dedicated to finding Cammie. Contacted all major and small airports across all continents. Disappointed when every lead went nowhere.

Liz: After the finals, she devoted pretty much all of her time in the headquarters hacking, tracing, tracking, decoding…everything on anything that could lead her to Cammie. And lining the headquarters with multi-colored pushpins and various sizes of Post-Its.

Bex: Working out at the P&E barn. A lot. And spending many nights in front of maps and the international news.

Macey: Worked with Liz on searching for Cammie. But she also provided hourly doughnuts and coffee, which was nice since they didn't exactly feel like eating in the Grand Hall anymore.

Me: Knowing that this was all pointless because Cammie was a chameleon. She would be found when she wanted to. And when she didn't, it was impossible. Most importantly, she would come back only when she wanted to.

* * *

"This is impossible." Macey threw a ballpoint pen forcefully onto the stainless steel table with a loud clatter. The cold, air-conditioned air in Sublevel One made it louder. "She's disappeared."

"Come on, guys. This is Cammie we're talking about. We're spies, for goodness sake. We have ways to find people." Liz perched on the edge of her hard chair, her elbows rested on the table and fingers wrapped around a coffee mug that had long stopped steaming. Her words were encouraging but we knew better.

"Do you want me to go through the facts again, Lizzie?" Bex rolled her eyes. She sat up and pulled a pile of stapled papers from the top of the main table, very nearly knocking over a pile of donuts. "The latest reports just came in only two hours ago, no sign of any terrorist movement, no seventeen-year-old teenagers leaping off rooftops in Japan and definitely no sign of Cammie."

"Looking at reports will get us nowhere." I snapped impatiently. The others glanced at me, since it was the first time I spoke for the past fifteen minutes. "The main question is: where would she go? And not 'where is she?'"

"She was looking for answers." Liz said softly. "She would've needed help."

"And where, may I ask, will you get that?" Macey retorted. "She has no money, except for a few thousand she's swiped from me, which isn't enough to last the whole summer. She has no equipment, unless she managed to get everything without at least raising a couple of questions here and there. And definitely no clue where to go." She ticked each of the options off with a finger.

"I would've gone to Mr. Solomon." Bex said. "But that's impossible."

Liz tugged at the sleeve of her blouse before saying, "I would've gone home. To rest then take off."

"Her home is here." I corrected. "And we don't see her lounging around taking naps, do we?"

"She mentioned a flat in Arlington, D.C. before." Bex said. "It was the only place she lived with her dad. She could've gone there."

"Exactly!" Liz sprang off the chair and swept up a familiar set of car keys. "My van can make it there in-"

"Liz…it's three in the morning." Macey said weakly. For the first time, Macey McHenry finally seemed tired after two whole weeks of tracking and handling data. There were junior finals as well, of course. Dark shadows showed underneath her eyes and the collar of her school blouse was stained with drops of coffee and donut crumbs. "We have to leave for summer tomorrow. Bex has to take Zach to London with her and my mother needs me in Paris for her work. And we promised your mother we wouldn't allow you to bail your family's two weeks cruise."

"Oh…" Liz deflated. "Right…summer. Without Cammie."

"We'd…better rest before leaving." Bex was the first one out of her chair. "We'll call everyday for updates, okay?"

Macey and Liz nodded before heading towards the elevator, then Bex turned to me, "Aren't you coming?"

I motioned her to go forwards, "Later, I have something to do. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

"Hey, Joe." I sat down beside his bed, the plastic chair squeaked softly underneath me. I glanced at the clock on his bedside table, slightly illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows.

I sighed and looked at Joe properly. His bruises were starting to fade, but the burns and cuts stayed hidden underneath the thick white gauze. He looked almost exactly how I had dragged him out of the tombs. Maybe if I looked carefully enough, there were still traces of ash and dust of Blackthorne still stuck underneath his fingernails.

"She's gone. I don't even know where to start looking for her." I said, the words heavy on my tongue. "She stole some cash from Macey but no credit cards—nothing to trace. Wherever she is, she's totally off the grid."

I half-smiled. "Congratulations. You trained her well." There was a loose thread on one of the blankets and I pulled at it nervously. I wondered how much I could unravel if given enough time. "You'd know how to find her, wouldn't you? Before…_she_ does."

I took a shaky breath, "She's out there, with friends. With better people. If she finds Cammie… I can't let her find Cammie."

* * *

**1****st**** July**

**Operative Goode boards private jet to Heathrow International Airport accompanied with the Baxter family. No sign of Operative Morgan. Everyone is still searching for answers. Everyone is wondering when will she come home.**

* * *

"This is home…" Bex pushed the key into the simple, wooden door. "At least for a quarter of the year. Mum's still at school, finishing up reports and Dad's on a mission to Moscow…again. So none of them should be back until a couple weeks later." At the same time, the door swung open and a luxurious looking living and dining room greeted us.

Professionally, the Baxter's home was good. Very good. The apartment told nothing about the MI6 spies who lived there, from the white three-seater sofa to the round, mahogany dining table for eight. There was a pressure pad under the wall-to-wall carpeting, heat detectors for every doorframe and of course, three infrared rays crisscrossing each room.

"Whoops. Let me turn them off." Bex reached for a small picture frame that hung right next to the door. She opened it like a flap, revealing a number pad and keyed in a code. Almost immediately, the beams were gone.

But personally, the Baxter's home was nothing like a home. The air was cool and stale, everything had a thin layer of dust on it and the fruit bowl was empty. Nothing was well worn. The taps didn't drip, the doors didn't creak and the fridge didn't hum. The Baxters had an empty home. An unused home. I suppose if Mom had bought an apartment, it would be exactly like this.

"I hate these curtains, they're so…dusty," Bex's accent returned as she crossed the living room to pull back the heavy curtains, letting the weak sunshine shine in. "Since I've always loved the view." She was right- not far away was the London Eye and behind that was Buckingham Palace and the Big Ben.

"I'll always love London." Bex breathed, putting her hand up to the floor-to-ceiling, only fingertips touching the cool glass.

"Patriotic." Bex and I said at once and laughed. Then we fell silent until Bex said, "Wonder if Cammie is seeing this at the same time."

I shrugged, "The London Eye is only a hundred and thirty-five meters tall. You won't be able to see it anywhere further than New Scotland Yard. But remember, Cammie likes a nice angle so I'd recommend Westminster Bridge or anywhere along Victoria Street."

Bex's eyes sparkled as she laughed, "Thanks, I needed that."

* * *

**A/N: Not my longest chapter...and radio silent for a whole month. Huge apologies! School is overwhelming, TV shows kept returning, new books/movies are coming and Tumblr is addicting. Listened to 'Red' (the song, not the album...although I wish it was) by Taylor Swift, Dirty Work (the album) by All Time Low and a particularly Zach-themed song called 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons. **

**And thank you to all who have read and reviewed/favorited! :) I'm afraid the next chapter is particularly tricky as we have our beloved assassin, Zach, running away and there's still Budapest with Bex to figure out. So...I really hope I can update ASAP! **

**Cheers,**

**AwesomePP**


	9. Chapter 9

Despite having professional agents trained to be capable of doing everything anywhere in the world, agencies usually have a small group of agents stationed in major cities all over the world. They don't rotate as frequently and they mainly stay in the stronghold, listening everyday for orders from the main headquarters. This is especially helpful for seriously deep undercover missions that might need an inside man already positioned in place or taking emergency calls when there is no time to fly an agent in all the way from Langley or wherever KGB calls home.

Did you also know that these agents are often _annoyed and bored to the point of insanity?_ A) Seriously deep undercover missions don't always happen in the area. B) Refreshing the CIA noticeboards eight times every ten minutes is definitely not how you want to spend your Saturday afternoons. C) Emergency calls are usually false alarms.

So Bex and I had daily phone calls from/to Macey, Liz or the school that often went like this: (yelling) "Zach/Bex, a blonde, almost Cammie's height is spotted at Heathrow airport, terminal two, _right now!_ (We would already be starting the car.) Get off the couch and- wait, no. The facial recognition results turned out negative. Sorry."

Or: "Madame Dabney's arrived in Cape Town today, Mr. Smith is in St. Petersburg until next week, Mrs. Morgan is flying to Tokyo tonight and I think Professor Buckingham is somewhere around Sydney. Erm…no, nothing leads anywhere near Great Britain. Sorry. But on the bright side, Macey's staying at school for the summer to catch up on her CoveOps training, you know, just in case she's needed to find Cam. She's nearly done with the sophomore syllabus so I think she can join us when school starts again."

Or like this: "Anything new?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"Have you checked the immigration records yet?"

"Yes, like, five. Minutes. Ago."

"I'll call you later, then."

"You do realize your later only means half an hour?"

And D) sometimes, you honestly have no time to prepare.

"The best thing about having MI6 agents as parents is that you get this. For free," Bex rested her elbows on the balcony of the Gallery of the Royal Albert Hall, the most prestigious concert hall in all of England, watching the National Youth Jazz Orchestra play for the annual BBC Prom.

Bex's parents were looking after security and we decided to come along, claiming that we needed the real life experience. But while they were focused on the countless monitors in the control room and shouting orders over comms units, Bex and I quietly crept away to the Gallery, a balcony that overlooked the sea of red seats, now filled with spectators from all around the world.

I nodded, "It's beautiful."

Purple and blue lights illuminated the large, round tiles suspended overhead, arranged in a circular pattern, it made the dome-shaped ceiling look like a bouquet of flowers. The auditorium was huge, over 5000 people were there, enjoying music. And the sound…it was perfect. It was almost like the performers were playing right in front of you and not on the other side of the 219 feet long auditorium.

But I was still puzzled at how could someone still function, playing music no less, with 5000 pairs of eyes all trained on you. Or maybe that's just a spy thing.

"Cammie would've loved it here." Bex sighed, her halter dress showing off her shoulder blades.

"Or do you mean she would've loved sneaking out?" I grinned. Hiding in the dark shadows right over the stage, lying to parents, sneaking into concerts…it all seemed like a dream. Surreal, in fact. And to think that civilian teenagers did this every summer. Except that we took it to the next level.

"It's been three weeks, Zach. I think she did a lot of sneaking and spying." Bex said, her voice suddenly icy. The fury wasn't directed at me. "I'm just sick of waiting here and-" She was cut off by a subtle buzzing coming from her pocket.

"Bloody phone," She muttered as she fumbled for it in the folds of her dress. "Hey, Macey. Anything?" Then Bex's eyes grew wide and her mouth formed an 'o', "_You shut up right now._" She frowned. "Where are you?" Rolled her eyes, "How is that supposed to help?" Bex sighed and snapped her phone shut, "We have to go. Now." She swiftly turned to the staircase, heading down.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping up with her brisk pace.

"Cammie." My stomach jerked when she said her name.

"Where is she?" I demanded quietly.

"Budapest." Bex replied and we broke into a run.

* * *

"Fastest way to Budapest for two." Bex slapped the shiny black credit card onto the countertop.

"Are your parents alright with this?" The attendant behind the counter eyed the credit card suspiciously. I didn't blame her. We were standing in a busy airport, looking nothing like travellers. Bex was still in her fancy halter dress and me in my Armani suit, both disheveled from sprinting through the streets of London and stealing a BMW from the nearest car park.

"_We're _the parents." I spoke up, choosing the random identity of a suave, misbehaving son of a British millionaire. "And we want to get away, fast." I leaned into the attendant's face, lifting up one corner of my mouth, then cocking a single eyebrow, "If you know what I mean." I stood up straight and (I COMPLETELY REGRET THIS) slid my arm around Bex's waist, "First class, if you don't mind."

The guy in me was fighting the very urge to chop my arm off and go to church or something but the spy-slash-assassin who was on a mission to rescue his missing girlfriend just pulled Bex closer.

As I used only two fingers to slide the credit card closer to the attendant (exploiting her need of a paycheck), she blinked and finally keyed in details into her computer, "Of course, Mr.…" She glanced at the credit card, "Adisair."

"Really, Zach, really?" Bex hissed next to my ear.

"It's not my fault your fake credit card has such a disgusting last name." I replied softly.

"You know what I'm talking about," Bex growled.

"Nothing to worry about, love. We'll get out of here in no time." I said at a normal volume before the attendant noticed us whispering madly. And it wasn't like our facial expressions made it look like we were saying sweet nothings to each other.

The attendant gave a dry cough, "There's a flight leaving in half an hour, I suggest you check in now, Mr. and Mrs. Adisair."

* * *

There are some people who bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best and there are those remarkable rare ones who bring out the most. Their place in your heart is tender, and when they're gone, it's a bruise of longing. When you hear their name when they're not beside you, it pulls at you in a hundred different directions. With them, they make you feel so alive that you'd follow them straight to hell, just to keep getting your fix.

I supposed that was what we were doing right now- jumping head first into hell just to find Cammie. The funny thing was, it was like I still couldn't grasp the fact that I was going to see her for the first time in one and a half months after her sudden disappearance. It was like we were serious drug addicts and instead of slowly reducing the amount of drugs taken in every time, we went cold turkey for a whole month and a half and we were still weak from the major withdrawal. And out of nowhere, we were getting an enormous dose. It felt too good. It felt surreal.

So on the two-hour flight to Budapest, I could barely sit still. We were lucky that we were in the first class cabin with more than enough legroom, or else the other passengers would've complained about horribly ADHD teenagers next to them.

"Zach, it's going to be alright. The seat is going to fall apart if you keep fidgeting like that." Bex said quietly, she put a comforting hand on my arm. But it sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself.

"I don't know what I'm going to say to her." I admitted. "I…I don't even know how she's going to be like. What if…what if she's a different person?" _What if we can't even recognize the person we knew? _Running away did these things to people, it jumbles up everything in their heads, for the better or worst.

"You're going to have no problem when you see her." Bex said scornfully. "I'm the one who's mad at her. Look at Macey, Liz, Mrs. Morgan. They only want her back, they only want her safe. But me? I just want her to stay away. I'm just so mad at her for running away. This…this isn't Cammie. She never does anything alone, even in seventh grade, she never did a single assignment in P&E without asking us if we wanted to pair up. It's like I don't know my best friend anymore."

A passenger in front turned on his reading light, slightly illuminating the fear in Bex's eyes. Fear that her best friend was hurt, fear that her best friend was alone, fear that she was losing Cammie that she knew. She leaned back into the plush seats, "I don't even know if I can bloody face her anymore."

I stayed silent. Not just because I've never had a best friend so I wasn't exactly the best person for relationship advice but because I knew Bex was feeling really, really bad to show raw emotions.

"What was she _thinking_?" Bex whispered, heartbroken.

_She was thinking about us, _I answered in my head.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my goodness, it's been such a long time. I'm so very, very sorry for the wait (seriously, do you guys even remember reading this thing?) and for this ridiculously short chapter. I hope the next chapter will be up soon with bundles of spy action and stuff like that (but come on, who's kidding, school starts this week). On the bright side, I have started working on Zach's POV of OSOT so that's something to look forward to in 2013. :) **

**Happy new year! **

**AwesomePP**


	10. Chapter 10

"Is she still there?" Bex asked from behind her cup of coffee.

I glanced up from a newspaper, "Not yet, she's still finishing off her strudel." Cammie was wearing sunglasses and was reading a guidebook, sitting on a bench in the summer sunshine.

"Do you think we should go up to her?" Bex breathed, looking at Cammie's reflection in a shop window.

"Not yet," I said. "We have to make sure it's her and find out what she's doing here." I studied her carefully. The hair color was identical, the bridge of her nose and the height of her cheekbones were the same. The way she walked, the slightly foreign accent (but unidentifiable to civilians) when she spoke Hungarian was completely like Cammie.

"Do you think I wouldn't know my best friend?" Bex retorted but stayed next to me.

"Bex, there are about 7 other people in the world who looks like Cammie. This could be one of them." I reasoned. _I need to see her eyes, I need to feel her warm hands to…make sure. _

"Hey, she's moving." Bex said. "I'll wait five minutes, the street is straight enough for us to see her."

"I'll follow in ten, your comms working?" I asked. We couldn't afford to lose Cammie in the crowds of tourists.

"Definitely," and after a moment, Bex melted into the crowd.

* * *

"She's going through Ferdinand Gate." Bex reported. I huffed, annoyed. I knew Cammie was good at this chameleon business but I didn't know she was _this _hard to track. Bex had sent me into seven different directions in the past half an hour and people we bound to notice if a tourist suddenly spun on his heels when ever he got close to a famous artifact.

"I think this would be a lot easier if we had brought more people with us," I grumbled as I doubled back…again.

"Ditto." Bex replied. I could hear her gasping into her comms unit. Looks like she was having a hard time tracking Cammie too. So much for being her best friend and roommate.

"I'm backup," I said as both Cammie and Bex came into sight.

"I want a reserve," Bex commented. "This feels so…risky." And how were we supposed to do that? Teleport Macey halfway across the globe with Liz's prototype of whatever she was working on that was based on pure theory? Emphasis on '_pure theory'._

"Nothing's going to go wrong," _I hope. _"It's just Budapest." _India was way worse. Trust me. _"And I'm here." _No offense Bex, but I probably have more hands-on experience than most of your graduates who have been doing seven years of fieldwork. _But I wasn't going to tell her about that time in India right there, of course.

"You take eyeball," Bex said. "It's been nearly forty-five minutes."

"Sure," I surged through the crowd as Bex fell back and casually put on a new hat.

"And Zach," Bex said, "Don't get too close."

* * *

**Number of minutes the Operatives have been tailing the Subject in Buda Castle: 196**

**Number of shirts and hats the Operatives had to change to prevent suspicion: 23**

**Number of times Operative Baxter complained about the hot weather: 108**

**Number of times Operative Goode used Operative Baxter's codename just to annoy the hell out of her: 108**

Map of Buda Castle in hand? Check.

Inconspicuous clothes? Check.

Intrigued tourist face? Check.

Cammie in the corner of my eye? Check.

"When is she done with the bloody tour?" Annoyed partner? Check.

"Cammie likes castles." I reminded her. Well, sort of, I guess.

"I don't. Really, the Habsburg rulers never actually lived here. It was like a summer home to them when they came to Budapest." Bex sighed. She leaned against the doorframe to The "Circle" Tearoom.

"Hey, she's breaking away from the tour." I said as the head of dishwater blonde hair bobbed through the crowd. Cammie started to quicken her pace, practically shoving tourists out of her way.

"Duchess, go." I commanded.

"Don't use that codename, Zach." Bex snapped as she weaved expertly through the crowd. I rolled my eyes and went in another direction. I needed to get on high ground to see well. I raced up a staircase and darted to the closest window, overlooking most of Buda Castle. I could see Cammie heading towards the fourth district in Buda Castle with Bex tailing her on the opposite pavement.

I winced, "Bex, you're being bloody obvious. Slow down."

"Don't go all English on me, Goode. I'd like to see you track the Chameleon." She hissed. "Where are you anyways?"

"Don't look up," was my reply. "Bex, she's heading for the Fourth District. _Don't_ lose her."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Bex said.

"You'd better," I replied. "Because that's where the Labyrinth is."

Bex swore.

* * *

Intensive Circle training taught me how to find faster ways of getting to a destination without getting noticed. (Alleys, rooftops and moving vehicles are your friends.) I easily found myself a few feet behind Cammie as she emerged from a maintenance service door at the Axis of the World inside the Labyrinth.

"Bex, I have eyeball." I said as I followed Cammie deeper into the Labyrinth. As I walked through the dim, underground corridors, I started to realize that this place was a spy's worst nightmare and a terrorist's wonderland.

1) Air conditioning was 100% crucial for survival in the Hungarian heat (usually going over 30 degrees Celsius). A simple removal of the safety sensor and pinching the cooling coil can generate heat and pressure. Just put a pan of flammable household cleaner will make flames burst out instead of cold air.

2) Air ducts. A surprisingly effective way of transforming the place into a gigantic gas chamber.

3) Corridors. Corridors have nearly no cover at all, start a shooting and it ends with a complete bloodbath.

4) Small rooms. Get cornered and get dead.

5) This place was old, almost half a million years old. Just one well placed bomb and the whole ceiling could go crashing down.

Need I say more? Absolutely not.

"Zach, slow down. I don't think radio signals work well here." Bex said as our comms started to crackle. Well, there's another thing to put on the list. This place could separate agents faster than you can say "affirmative".

Cammie turned down another corridor, then another. Questions started to race through my head. _The Circle could have headquarters here, was that what she was after? If so, how did she know? Did she find a source over the past month? How did she get it? But most importantly, did she get hurt retrieving it?_

She was heading down a deserted corridor now and I was starting to panic. It would be too obvious if I followed her alone. I didn't know how far behind Bex was (our comms had gone dead once we went any deeper than the Shaman Passage) and I didn't know how far the Labyrinth would stretch.

A wise man once told me that we only needed 20 seconds of pure, insane courage to turn a mission around. For better or worse, it depended on your luck. But for Cammie, I lived to die. So I took a deep breath and walked as quietly as possible down the corridor.

Was I doing everything my training told me NOT to do? Yes. Was I putting myself directly in a potential line of fire? Totally. Was I completely risking my life, blowing my cover and ruining any chance of keeping this operation secret like a spy should? Completely. (But I was much more of an assassin than a spy. Always and probably forever.)

Then one of the worst things in the whole history of espionage happened: Cammie walked into a completely dark cavern. I fought an overwhelming urge to scream profanities and kick a wall.

_Wait for Bex_, my spy instincts told me.

_Go in after Cammie_, my gut and the boy in me yelled at me.

You know me, I usually follow my gut and I plunged into the darkness like an ice-cold lake.

* * *

"Cammie?" I asked, fumbling my way into the darkness. It was so quiet in the carven. Too quiet. I couldn't hear anything except for my labored breathing and my heartbeat that was racing forwards by every second. Terror like I never knew washed over me, tossing and turning me in a never-ending sea of horrible possibilities.

"If you were wondering, this cave is called the Labyrinth of Love." An unfamiliar voice said.

I closed my eyes and stood completely still, dread was starting to suffocate me. I was panicking too much to even start cursing. This was no Cammie, this was a decoy, a trap. And I had walked right into it. I was deep underground. Alone. Unarmed. The biggest mistake any spy or assassin could ever make. I was lucky if my corpse could make it out of this place in one piece.

"It was originally developed for couples- the two would enter the labyrinth in two different ways and after wandering, the meet here, in a special place with a special atmosphere." A pair of lips brushed my right ear. I immediately reached out to grab her but my hands met thin air. "Isn't this special for our first meeting? Of course, I would've preferred better circumstances but…fate works in funny ways, doesn't it?"

"I heard a lot about you, Hawk…or should I say Zach?" The voice carried on. "The most well trained of your cell. Youngest, too. Catherine was so proud of you, you should've heard her raving about you."

"I don't care what my mother says." I stated coldly, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from but no luck, the voice was echoing off the walls of the carven. It was everywhere. "Who are you?" If I was going to die at the hands of the Circle in about, I don't know, ten minutes, I at least would like to know who killed me.

The voice chuckled, "Take a look at my pretty face, Zach. And tell me, do I look like Cammie enough for you?" A couple of soft lights turned on and I was staring into Cammie. Or a person who looked like Cammie with green eyes. They would've been identical twins.

I lunged at her and pinned her against the wall, I leaned in so close that I could see her pupils and feel her breath, "Where. Is. She? _Tell me!_"

"We've got her, all right." She arched an eyebrow and said in a lazy voice. I swore in my mind, she heard the desperation in my voice.

"Is she with Catherine? Is she with Dr. Steve?" I pressed against her arms harder, my voice had grown low and dangerous. "Did you hurt her? Is she alive? If you don't tell me, I'm going to kill you."

"Be my guest." She said, and then leaned close to my ear, "I know you can feel the revolver in my jacket. Take it out, Zach. You never will forget your first kill." A blind rush of anger took over me, a red tinge formed at the corner of my eyes. I lashed out blindly, I could feel my fist and knees making contact. Sickening crunches echoed about the carven and I started to smell blood.

"Zach! What are you doing?" Bex's voice cut into my rage and I came back into focus. The Cammie look-alike was crumpled at my feet now. I could feel her hot blood on my knuckles, her pained breathing louder than ever. In the back of my mind, I knew I had fractured about three ribs, maybe snapped her right leg and caused severe internal bleeding. I numbly stumbled backwards. My head spun from adrenaline and shock and for a moment, it wasn't a Circle agent who lay in front of me but Cammie Morgan.

I had hurt Cammie. It was Cammie who had broken ribs. Cammie was the one needing to be ambulanced to ICU. It was Cammie who was dripping scarlet blood at the corner of her mouth.

I let out an animalistic howl, deep from my chest. Bex told me later that if you could hear pain, that was it.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" I whispered; I was choking back sobs. "I didn't…I didn't mean to…" My gut twisted into knots. the pain of regret was nothing I had ever felt before. It was _destroying_ me. Eating me like an acid. Joe was correct, there was nothing more horrible than seeing the one you cared about most in pain.

"Though Catherine was proud of you, Dr. Steve knew you w-were weak…" the agent said between weak, ragged breaths. "He sent me specially…to torture you. To play with your mind. To make you see Cammie in pain… I-I can see now it pains both of you. The Labyrinth of Love, what a…f-fitting place." I glanced quickly at Bex. I could see tears gushing out of her eyes, a hand clamped over her mouth to stop screaming. She was doubled over with pain. Bex, the unbreakable, finally broke.

Then I knew what the agent was going to do. I leapt at Bex and covered her eyes with my hand, just before Cammie's double took out her gun and shot herself in the temple.

Unfortunately, I saw it all happen.

* * *

I gagged, acid was threatening to overflow in my stomach but I think throwing up on a UNESCO artifact wasn't going to help with anything.

"Zach…" I had never heard Bex sound so frail. "Did she…did she…?"

"Yes," I barely managed to choke out. Then Bex turned her head and started to sob into my shoulder. And at that moment, I think we were both deader than the corpse lying on the stone floor.

* * *

**A/N: If you haven't abandoned this story, I love you. This chapter was very...different for me to write. I'm not sure if the mood was correct or if the wording was right. (Unlike Zach, I have never seen someone I cared about commit suicide in front of me.) So if you guys have any feedback, please let me know! :) And Buda Castle is like this huge castle in Budapest and the name refers to all it's districts around it. So basically, it's the name of both a castle and a place. Sorry if it confuses anyone! **


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